I/ 


I  •'. 


THE  REVOCATION 


EDICT    OF    NANTES, 

AND    ITS    CONSSgttE'NQES 

TO  T.HE.  •  .  •  '.  §>,  ' 

Protestant  <£twrc!)e8  of  France  anto  Xtalg; 

CONTAINING 

MEMOIRS 

OF   SOME   OF   THE 

SUFFERERS  IN  THE  PERSECUTION 

ATTENDING   THAT   EVENT. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION. 

WILLIAM    S.    MARTIEN,    PUBLISHING    AGENT. 
1839. 


?* 


CONTENTS. 

Page 
Introduction 5 

M.  Chandion,  the  repentant  Convert 13 

M.  de  Chevenix,  the  persecuted  Invalid 17 

M.  D'Algue,  and  the  Assemblies  of  the  Faithful  in 

the  Mountains  of  Cevennes 23 

M.  Fulcrand  Rei,  the  devoted  Pastor 35 

Jean  Migault,  the  Reader  of  Moulle 50 

M.  Le  Fevre,  the  Prisoner  of  the  Galleys 117 

M.  de  Marolles,  the  Exile  arrested  in  his  Flight  ...  139 

The  Martyrs  of  Toulouse 168 

The  Church  in  the  Wilderness ;  or,  the  Waldenses 

of  the  Piemont  Valleys 180 

Appendix 202 


INTRODUCTION. 


FROM  an  early  period  of  the  Reformation,  the 
Protestants  of  France,  although  embracing  many 
of  the  nobility,  were  assailed  by  the  most  relent- 
less persecutions.  The  church  of  Rome  has  ever 
been  the  enemy  of  light,  and  has  never  hesitated, 
where  it  possessed  the  power,  to  employ  force  and 
violence  to  prevent  its  diffusion.  The  Reformed 
Church  in  France  was  particularly  exposed  to  the 
malignant  persecutions  of  a  corrupt  government, 
instigated  by  the  sanguinary  suggestions  of  the 
Roman  Pontiffs  and  troops  of  Jesuits.  An  exemp- 
tion from  these  troubles,  was  secured  by  the  cele- 
brated Edict  drawn  up  at  Nantes,  by  which  Henry 
IV.  guaranteed  to  his  Protestant  subjects,  the  pos- 
session of  religious  liberty  and  the  secure  enjoy- 
ment of  civil  rights  and  privileges.  This  delivered 
them  from  all  further  molestation  during  the  period 
of  that  monarch's  reign. 

At  a  subsequent  period,  however,  the  persecu- 
ting spirit  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  which  had  been 
temporarily  held  in  check,  again  burst  forth  with 
additional  violence.  Stratagem  having  failed  to 
induce  the  Protestants  to  put  themselves  under  the 
1* 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

Papal  yoke,  every  measure,  which  malice  and 
cruelty  could  suggest,  was  resorted  to  for  their  ex- 
tirpation. Lewis  the  XIV.,  prevailed  on  by  the 
importunities  of  the  Bishops  and  Jesuits,  in  disre- 
gard of  all  laws  human  and  divine,  revoked  the 
Edict  of  Nantes,  by  which  act  the  Protestants 
were  deprived  of  the  liberty  of  worshipping  God, 
agreeably  to  the  dictates  of  their  consciences,  and 
were  exposed  without  shelter  to  the  sanguinary 
assaults  of  their  enemies.  The  Roman  pontiff 
applauded  the  measure  which  was  to  bring  ruin 
upon  so  many  thousands.  An  attempt  being  made 
to  force  the  consciences  of  the  Protestants,  they 
emigrated  in  vast  numbers  to  other  parts  of  Europe, 
in  which  they  might  enjoy  the  sacred  privileges 
which  had  been  denied  them  in  their  own  coun- 
try. This  proved  highly  detrimental  to  the  real 
prosperity  of  France,  as  it  deprived  it  of  many  of 
its  most  useful  citizens.  Where  flight  was  impos- 
sible the  unhappy  Protestants  were  subjected  to 
the  most  cruel  and  murderous  persecutions. 

Living,  as  we  do,  in  peace  and  security,  so  far 
removed  from  times  when  the  fury  of  religious 
persecution  desolated  the  land,  we  can  scarcely 
imagine  the  distress  and  alarm  of  the  Protestants, 
when  this  unrighteous  decree  was  passed.  Not 
only  was  the  exercise  of  their  religion,  in  public 
and  in  private,  forbidden,  but  they  were  interdict- 
ed from  following  any  trade  or  profession,  by 


INTRODUCTION.  7 

which  they  might  procure  the  means  of  living  for 
themselves  and  their  families,  and  from  holding 
any  office  whatever,  which  might  give  them 
weight  and  influence  in  society.  It  was  soon 
found  that  flight  to  a  foreign  land  was  the  only 
earthly  refuge  for  the  sufferers.  But  here,  again, 
difficulties  beset  them  wherever  they  turned.  By 
a  most  perverse  cruelty,  while  they  were  deprived 
of  the  means  of  living  in  their  own  country,  they 
were  not  permitted  to  seek  an  alleviation  of  their 
misery,  by  retiring  to  a  foreign  land.  The  greatest 
advantage  the  most  fortunate  could  hope  to  obtain, 
was  the  mournful  privilege  of  becoming  fugitives 
and  exiles. 

Though  multitudes  were  unable  to  succeed  in 
removing  themselves  and  their  families  from  their 
native  country,  many  overcame  every  obstacle. 
Various  parts  of  the  continent  were  open  to  them, 
and  England  and  America  offered  them  a  shelter 
from  the  fury  of  the  oppressor.  Half  a  million  of 
the  most  virtuous  and  industrious  subjects  of  the 
king  of  France  withdrew  to  other  countries,  which 
they  enriched  by  the  arts  and  manufactures  they 
carried  with  them. 

Of  the  miseries  occasioned  by  the  proceedings 
against  the  members  of  the  reformed  church,  we 
can  form  very  little  idea  from  a  cursory  view  of 
the  subject.  All  the  ministers  were  commanded 
to  leave  the  kingdom  within  fifteen  days  after  the 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

publication  of  the  decree,  unless  they  would  abjure 
their  religion,  and  conform  to  the  Roman  Catholic 
mode  of  worship. 

With  regard  to  the  children  of  the  reformed,  all 
private  schools  for  their  instruction  were  to  be 
suppressed;  and  it  was  commanded,  that  those 
who  should  hereafter  be  born,  should  be  baptized 
by  the  cures  of  the  parishes  in  which  their  parents 
resided,  and  should  afterward  be  educated  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  faith. 

To  such  Protestants  as  were  out  of  the  king- 
dom at  the  time  the  decree  was  passed,  the  king 
allowed  a  delay  of  four  months,  to  give  them  time 
to  return  and  resume  possession  of  their  property. 
If  they  did  not  return  within  that  time,  the  whole 
was  to  be  confiscated.  At  the  same  time,  it  was 
forbidden  to  any  of  the  reformed  to  leave  the  coun- 
try, except  the  ministers,  with  their  wives,  and 
such  of  their  children  as  were  under  seven  years 
of  age. 

The  situation  of  these  ministers  was  most  dis- 
tressing. Unless  they  abjured  their  faith,  they 
had  to  choose  between  exile  or  the  galleys.  If 
they  resolved  to  leave  the  country,  they  must 
separate  themselves  from  all  who  were  dearest  to 
them,  except  their  wives,  and  children  of  the  spe- 
cified age.  All  above  this  age,  together  with 
friends,  relatives,  and  servants,  were  forbidden  to 
be  included  in  their  passports.  Even  when  they 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

arrived  at  the  coast  with  the  scanty  train  permit- 
ted, they  were  often  obliged  to  submit  to  further 
delays,  while  their  oppressors  demanded  proof 
that  the  persons  they  brought  with  them  were 
really  their  wives  and  their  children,  and  that  the 
children  were  really  under  the  age  of  seven.  Far 
from  all  who  knew  them,  it  was  often  impossible 
to  bring  the  proof  required ;  and,  in  default  of  it, 
many  were  arrested  and  committed  to  prison. 
Some  found  it  impossible,  with  their  utmost  efforts, 
to  arrange  their  affairs,  and  reach  the  coast  in  fif- 
teen days,  and  these  were  seized  and  imprisoned, 
on  the  ground  of  having  exceeded  the  time  allow- 
ed for  their  departure. 

They  were  often  required  to  establish  their  right 
to  every  species  of  property  they  carried  with 
them,  whether  books,  money,  or  other  things,  and 
to  prove  that  they  did  not  belong  in  any  way  to 
the  churches  they  had  served,  as  every  thing  of 
this  sort  reverted  to  the  crown.  Thus,  not  only 
was  the  time  consumed  by  vexatious  delays,  but 
the  little  they  had  been  able  to  save  from  the 
wreck  of  their  property,  was  often  wrested  from 
them  under  false  pretences  ;  and  they  were  left  to 
proceed,  with  their  wives  and  their  little  ones,  to 
a  foreign  land,  with  all  the  miseries  of  penury 
added  to  their  other  distresses. 

There  were  multitudes  who  found  it  impossible 
to  secure  any  thing.  In  the  distracted  state  of  the 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

country,  it  was,  in  many  instances,  perfectly  use- 
less to  attempt  to  collect  debts,  or  to  convert  houses 
or  land  into  money  in  the  few  days  allowed  them 
to  prepare  for  flight ;  and  this  was  the  only  time 
in  which  they  could  do  it,  as,  after  that  period, 
whatever  property  remained,  was  seized  by  the 
commissioners  and  confiscated  without  mercy. 

This  cruel  injustice,  with  regard  to  property, 
had  been  experienced  by  others  besides  the  minis- 
ters, even  before  the  Edict  of  Revocation  was  pub- 
lished. Previous  to  that  final  step,  the  severe 
measures  adopted  by  the  government  had  excited 
so  much  alarm,  that  many  were  induced  to  leave 
the  country.  Brevets  were  obtained  from  the 
king,  granting  them  permission  to  retire  to  foreign 
countries  with  their  families,  and  to  dispose  of 
their  property  in  any  way  they  might  think  best. 
On  the  faith  of  these  brevets  they  acted,  leaving 
estates,  &c.  in  the  hands  of  others,  and  expecting 
to  have  rents  and  the  proceeds  of  whatever  they 
ordered  to  be  sold,  sent  out  to  them.  But  a  great 
proportion  of  these  shared  the  same  fate  as  the 
exiled  pastors,  and  all  they  had  left  in  France  was 
lost.  Other  decrees,  still  more  oppressive  than 
the  Edict  of  Revocation,  followed,  and  continued 
in  force  for  more  than  half  a  century. 

That  which  above  all  affected  the  sincere  and 
pious  among  the  ministers,  and  at  first  decided 
them  to  remain  in  France  at  every  risk,  was  the 


INTRODUCTION.  11 

consideration,  that  if  they  went  into  exile,  they 
would  be  as  shepherds  abandoning  their  flocks  to 
the  wolf,  at  the  very  moment  when  their  assistance 
was  most  peculiarly  necessary  to  them.  They 
said  within  themselves,  "Jesus  Christ,  the  good 
Shepherd  of  his  people,  will  one  day  expect  at  our 
hand,  an  account  of  the  flocks  confided  to  our  care. 
How  shall  we  appear  before  him,  to  render  up  our 
accounts  with  joy,  if  we  desert  them  in  the  hour  of 
neejj?"  They  determined  to  remain,  and  by  every 
possible  means  seek  to  console  and  strengthen 
their  persecuted  people  ;  pouring  the  wine  and  oil 
of  heavenly  comfort  into  the  wounded  hearts  of  the 
sufferers,  strengthening  the  weak,  confirming  the 
feeble,  and  striving  to  build  up  all  in  the  most  holy 
faith,  which  the  adversaries  were  attempting  by 
every  means  to  undermine.  The  fierce  storm  of 
persecution  was  abroad  in  the  land,  and  the  Ro- 
mish church  was  set  forth  as  the  only  covert  from 
the  tempest.  Prosperity  was  to  be  the  lot  of  those 
who  entered  her  portals ;  adversity,  severe  and 
pitiless,  was  decreed  to  those  who  refused  her  of- 
fers. Too  many  felt  themselves  unable  to  remain 
firm  in  this  day  of  trial,  not  having  sought,  with 
sufficient  ardour,  the  aid  of  him  who  "  giveth  to 
all  men  liberally,  and  upbraideth  not;"  and  who 
suffereth  no  temptation  to  befall  his  children,  "  but 
will  also,  with  the  temptation,  make  a  way  for 
them  to  escape."  Yet  there  was  a  blessed  num- 


12  INTRODUCTION. 

her,  strong  in  faith,  who  walked  manfully  on  in  the 
path  allotted  to  them.  Multitudes  bore  testimony 
to  the  truth  of  their  religion,  resisting  unto  death 
every  attempt  to  turn  them  aside  from  the  true  faith. 
Many  were  the  martyred  saints  who  expired  du- 
ring this  period  on  the  scaffold  and  at  the  stake, 
and  many  more  in  hidden  dungeons,  where  the 
wrath  of  man  worketh  in  secret,  that  which  no 
earthly  eye  may  behold,  but  which  He  who  seeth 
from  his  throne  in  heaven,  and  from  whom  no 
secrets  are  hid,  will  one  day  reveal  to  an  assem- 
bled world.  In  that  day,  how  shall  the  persecu- 
tors tremble!  and  oh!  how  many  unrecorded  vic- 
tims of  their  fury  shall  then  be  seen,  "  clothed  in 
white  robes,  and  having  palms  in  their  hands," 
ascribing  honour  and  praise  unto  Him  who  hath 
brought  them  through  great  tribulations  to  their 
glorious  place  of  rest!  Even  among  those  who  had 
fallen  into  the  snares  of  their  oppressors,  and  had 
been  prevailed  on  to  sign  a  paper,  by  which  they 
abjured  their  religion,  great  numbers  afterwards 
sincerely  and  bitterly  repented  their  conduct,  and 
sought  the  earliest  opportunity  to  confess  their  fault 
to  their  brethren.  Many  had  the  courage  to  de- 
clare openly  to  their  enemies  that  they  had  signed 
against  their  consciences,  that  they  repented  it  as 
a  crime,  and  that  they  were  resolved  to  live  and 
die  in  their  first  faith. 


13 


M.  CHANDION. 


THE    REPENTANT    CONVERT. 

AMONG  the  penitents  was  M.  Chandion,  or 
Changuinon,  an  elder  of  the  church  of  Vassi 
de  Champagne  for  thirty  years.  This  vene- 
rable old  man,  repenting  of  his  sinful  compli- 
ance, resolved  to  join  the  party  of  the  exiles; 
and  with  that  intention,  set  out  with  his  son, 
with  M.  Chemet,  his  brother-in-law,  and  se- 
veral others,  to  quit  the  kingdom.  After  pro- 
ceeding some  time  in  safety,  they  were  at 
length  overtaken  and  arrested.  The  younger 
Chandion  eluded  the  vigilance  of  his  guards, 
and  escaped.  The  father  was  conducted  to 
the  prison  of  Sedan,  and  underwent  the  usual 
examination.  When  interrogated  as  to  the 
design  of  the  journey  in  which  he  had  been 
overtaken,  he  replied  courageously,  that  it 
was  to  go  into  a  Protestant  country,  if  God 
had  permitted  it,  to  weep  there,  in  the  midst 


14  M.  CHANDION, 

of  his  brethren,  over  the  great  fault  of  which 
he  had  been  pulley f  in  signing  the  abjuration 
of  his  faith;  adding,  that  he  would  declare 
before  Cod  and  men,  that  he  had  given  his 
signature  against  his  conscience,  that  he  now 
retracted  it,  and  was  ready  to  suffer  all  which 
the  law  could  inflict  on  him. 

The  second  day  of  his  imprisonment,  he 
was  conducted  to  another  place  of  confine- 
ment, where  he  found  M.  Chemet  with  the 
rest  of  the  unfortunate  party.  They  were  all 
tried  a  few  days  after,  and  the  men  were  con- 
demned to  the  gallies  for  life;  the  women  and 
children  to  be  shut  up  in  convents.  From 
Sedan  they  were  transferred  to  Metz,  where 
they  were  to  join  the  chain  of  condemned  crim- 
inals, and  pass  on  with  them  to  their  destin- 
ed place  of  punishment.  Thus,  in  addition  to 
the  severe  judgment  passed  upon  them,  they 
had  to  endure  the  society  of  the  most  deprav- 
ed and  abandoned  persons,  who  were  receiv- 
ing, as  the  due  reward  of  iniquity,  the  same 
punishment  as  these  pious  and  inoffensive  men. 

When  the  chain  of  the  condemned  was 
drawn  out  for  examination,  and  these  two  ex- 
cellent old  men  were  brought  forward  to  be 


THE  REPENTANT  CONVERT.       15 

attached  to  it,  the  Procurer  General,  who  was 
present,   touched    with    compassion    at   their 
situation,  called   for  pen  and  paper,  that  he 
might  write  immediately  to  Louvois,  the  pow- 
erful minister  of  Louis  XIV.,  protesting  that 
they  were  not  in  a  state  to  serve  in  the  gal- 
lies.     It  is  not  known  what  reply  came  from 
the  court,  but  its  import  may  be  guessed,  since 
they  had  the  cruelty  to  compel  M.  Chandion 
and  M.  Chemet  to  set  out  for  Marseilles,  at- 
tached to  the  chain,  with  fifty  others,  of  whom 
sixteen  were,  like  themselves,  condemned  for 
their  religion.     God  strengthened  their  aged 
limbs  to  bear  their  chains  to  Marseilles;  but 
scarcely  were  they  arrived,  when,  exhausted 
with  fatigue,  they  were  seized  with  mortal 
sickness,  and  in  a  few  days  breathed  their  last. 
Thus  were  these  venerable  men  enabled  to 
bear  testimony  to  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus, 
and  then  permitted  to  escape  from  the  stormy 
wind  and  the  tempest.     While  "  the  blast  of 
the   terrible  ones"   still   raged   around  their 
brethren,  they  entered  at  once  into  the  peace- 
ful haven,  "  wherein   goeth   no   galley   with 
oars,  neither  doth  gallant  ships  pass  thereby." 
There  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and 


16  M.  CHANDION. 

the  weary  are  at  rest,"  waiting  for  the  full 
fruition  of  the  blessedness  of  the  redeemed,  in 
that  day  when  a  voice  shall  be  heard,  "  as  the 
voice  of  a  great  multitude,  and  as  the  voice  of 
many  waters,  and  as  the  voice  of  mighty 
thundering,  saying,  Alleluia!  for  the  Lord 
God  omnipotent  reigneth.  Let  us  be  glad 
and  rejoice,  and  give  power  to  him;  for  the 
marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come."  Rev.  xix. 
6,7. 


17 


M.  DE  CHEVENIX, 


THE     PERSECUTED     INVALID. 


THE  most  striking  proofs  of  penitence  were 
often  exhibited  in  the  sick  chambers  of  the 
new  Catholics,  as  they  were  called.  From 
their  dying  beds,  they  often  made  the  most 
affecting  protestations  to  the  Catholic  priests, 
who  came  to  offer  them  the  sacraments  of  the 
church,  and  (if  possible)  to  compel  them  to 
receive  them. 

In  these  awful  moments,  on  the  point  of 
appearing  before  the  Judge  of  quick  and  dead, 
those  who  until  then  had  concealed  their  opi- 
nions, often  felt  themselves  obliged  to  raise 
the  mask,  and  confess  their  real  sentiments, 
giving  glory  to  God,  and  testifying  their  faith 
in  Jesus,  as  the  only  Saviour. 

Alarmed  at  these  instances  of  defection  in 
their  forced  converts,  their  persecutors  now 
obtained  a  law,  decreeing,  that  those  who 
2* 


18  M.    DE    CHEVENIX, 

relapsed  into  the  Protestant  faith,  should  be 
condemned  to  the  amende  honorable,  and  to 
banishment  with  confiscation  of  property.  For 
the  sick  who  should  refuse  the  sacraments,  and 
declare  they  desired  to  die  in  the  Protestant 
religion,  in  case  they  recovered  from  their 
sickness,  they  were  to  be  subjected  to  the 
same  law,  with  this  addition,  that  banishment 
should  be  exchanged  for  labour  in  the  gallies, 
for  the  men,  and  confinement  in  cloisters,  for 
the  women.  If  they  died  in  these  dispositions, 
the  same  decree  ordained,  that  their  bodies 
should  be  drawn  on  a  hurdle,  and  then  thrown 
on  the  highway,  and  their  property  confis- 
cated. 

Among  the  penitents  whose  names  have 
descended  to  us,  and  whose  dying  confessions 
have  not  been  without  their  earthly  record,  is 
M.  de  Chevenix,  a  venerable  man,  fourscore 
years  of  age,  one  of  the  oldest  counsellors  of 
the  parliament  of  Metz.  When  the  soldiers 
of  the  king  had  invested  the  town,  and  pur- 
sued their  barbarous  system  of  conversion,  by 
means  of  every  cruelty  they  could  devise,  the 
aged  senator,  overcome  by  their  persecutions, 
had,  with  many  others,  signed  the  abjuration, 


THE    PERSECUTED    INVALID.  19 

in  order  to  be  relieved  from  the  presence  of 
their  oppressors.  A  short  time  after,  he  fell 
sick,  and  during  his  illness,  which  lasted  about 
two  months,  he  gave  many  proofs  of  his 
repentance  for  that  act  of  sinful  weakness.  As 
soon  as  this  was  known,  a  number  of  priests 
hastened  to  the  chamber  of  the  sick  man,  to 
set  before  him  the  danger  of  relapsing  into  his 
former  heresy,  and,  if  possible,  to  confirm  him 
in  the  Romish  faith.  Even  the  bishop  labour- 
ed to  secure  the  constancy  of  the  new  convert. 
Nor  was  it  priests  alone  who  came  to  disturb 
the  quiet  and  repose  so  necessary  to  an  inva- 
lid. The  governor  and  the  principal  mem- 
bers of  the  council,  likewise  gathered  around 
his  bed,  harassing  him  with  arguments,  and 
pressing  on  him  the  superstitions  of  their 
church.  But  his  hour  of  weakness  was  past. 
Though  he  had  fallen,  he  was  strengthened  to 
rise  again,  so  that  the  enemy  could  not  finally 
triumph  over  him.  He  was  enabled  to  resist 
all  their  arguments  and  all  their  entreaties, 
with  the  greatest  firmness.  A  short  time  be- 
fore his  death,  the  cure  of  the  place  came  to 
offer  him  the  sacraments,  as  a  final  trial  of  his 
faith.  He  thanked  him  mildly,  but  said,  he 


20  M.    DE    CHEVENIX, 

was  not  disposed  to  receive  them.  The  priest 
withdrew,  but  it  was  to  carry  the  complaint 
of  his  contumacy  to  the  proper  court.  Life 
was  now  rapidly  waning,  and  the  sick  man 
expired  before  any  further  measures  could  be 
taken.  It  was  too  late  to  inflict  personal  suf- 
fering on  the  relapsed  heretic,  but  there  was 
still  time  to  expose  his  lifeless  remains  to  the 
indignities  decreed  by  the  new  law.  The 
Senechal  commanded,  that  the  dead  body 
should  be  carried  to  prison,  and  condemned 
it  to  be  drawn  on  the  hurdle,  and  afterwards 
thrown  on  the  highway.  To  prevent  a  cir- 
cumstance so  distressing  to  the  feelings  of  his 
surviving  friends,  an  appeal  was  made  from 
the  decree  of  the  Senechal,  to  the  parliament 
of  Metz.  The  senators,  though  Catholics, 
were  struck  with  horror,  at  the  idea  of  con- 
firming such  a  sentence  against  the  body  of 
one  of  their  colleagues.  They  addressed  them- 
selves without  delay  to  the  court,  to  obtain 
permission  to  reverse  the  decree;  but  they 
received  immediately  an  order  from  the  king, 
commanding  them  to  execute  it  in  its  fullest 
rigour.  They  were  then  obliged  to  confirm 
the  sentence  of  the  Senechal,  and  to  deliver 


THE    PERSECUTED    INVALID.  21 

the  body  to  the  executioner,  to  perform  the 
rest  of  the  revolting  decree. 

Contrary  to  the  hopes  and  wishes  of  the 
Catholic  party,  this  severity  against  so  res- 
pected and  important  an  inhabitant  of  the 
place,-  instead  of  intimidating  the  Protestants, 
tended  to  rouse  their  spirits,  and  determine 
them  to  declare  their  sentiments  with  more 
boldness.  As  the  body  was  drawn  through 
the  streets,  many  testified  their  indignation  at 
the  sight.  "Behold  a  man  of  God!"  ex- 
claimed some.  "  He  is  in  his  car  of  triumph," 
said  others.  The  melancholy  spectacle  passed 
on,  and  others  were  heard  to  say,  "  His  body 
is  in  the  hand  of  the  executioner,  but  his  soul 
is  with  his  God."  Others  said,  "  His  body  is 
defiled  with  dust,  but  his  soul  is  washed  in  the 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ."  The  soldiers  who 
accompanied  the  executioner  to  support  him 
in  his  duty,  in  vain  endeavoured  to  keep  the 
people  silent:  the  powerful  feeling  which  had 
been  excited,  could  not  be  suppressed  in  an 
instant.  When  the  executioner  had  performed 
his  part,  and  ended  by  throwing  the  lifeless 
body  on  the  highway,  the  people  of  Metz  had 
the  courage  to  carry  it  away,  and  inter  it 


22  M.  DE  CHEVENIX. 

honourably.  It  was  not  the  Protestants  only, 
who  testified  their  abhorrence  of  this  act;  even 
the  Catholic  inhabitants  were  incensed  at  this 
treatment  of  one  of  the  most  respected  of  their 
citizens.  They  wrapped  the  body  in  a  cloth, 
and  bore  it  into  a  garden  where  a  grave  was 
prepared  to  receive  it.  Many  persons  attended 
to  assist  in  performing  the  last  offices;  and  it 
is  said  more  than  four  hundred  women  were 
present.  While  the  body  was  lowered  into 
the  grave,  they  sung,  with  a  loud  voice,  the 
79th  Psalm,  where  the  prophet  deplores  the 
ruin  of  Jerusalem  in  such  affecting  strains, 
saying,  amongst  other  things  peculiarly  appro- 
priate to  the  present  case,  "  The  dead  bodies 
of  thy  servants  have  they  given  to  be  meat 
unto  the  fowls  of  heaven,  the  flesh  of  thy 
saints  unto  the  beasts  of  the  earth." 

Instances  without  number  might  be  adduced 
of  far  severer  treatment  than  that  of  M.  Che- 
venix;  but  desirous  to  place  these  narratives 
in  the  hands  of  young  people,  we  do  not  wish 
to  shock  their  feelings,  by  a  detail  of  many  of 
the  horrible  excesses  of  this  persecution. 


23 


M.  D'ALGUE, 

AND    THE    ASSEMBLIES   OF   THE   FAITHFUL   IN   THE 
MOUNTAINS    OF    CEVENNES. 

AMONG  the  severe  decrees  contained  in  the 
Edict  of  Revocation,  was  an  order  for  the 
immediate  demolition  of  all  the  Protestant 
churches.  This  order  was  so  zealously  dis- 
charged, that  it  is  said,  in  a  few  days,  there 
was  only  one  left  standing  in  the  whole  king- 
dom. At  the  same  time,  the  reformed  were 
forbidden  to  celebrate  their  worship  in  any 
private  house,  or  in  any  place  whatever. 

It  was  however  impossible  to  persuade  those 
who  had  found  delight  in  the  ordinances  of 
God,  "  to  forsake  the  assembling  of  themselves 
together;"  and  hence  arose  what  the  French 
writers  term,  "  the  preaching  in  the  desert." 
Scarcely  were  the  churches  thrown  down,  and 
the  ministers  chased  from  the  kingdom,  whei/ 
their  deserted  flocks  thought  of  supplying  the 
loss  of  public  worship  by  private  services. 


24  M.  D'ALGUE,  AND  THE 

For  this  end,  little  companies  met  together  in 
remote  and  secret  places,  amid  the  stillness 
and  darkness  of  the  night.  And  oftentimes 
did  they  realize  that  blessed  promise  of  the 
Saviour,  "  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst 
of  them." 

Though  their  regular  pastors  were  driven 
into  exile,  their  God,  in  whom  they  trusted, 
did  not  forsake  them,  but  raised  them  up 
"judges,  as  at  the  first,  and  counsellors,  as  at 
the  beginning." 

"  What,  when  a  Paul  has  run  his  course, 

Or  when  Apollos  dies, 
Shall  we  be  left  without  resource  ? 
Has  Israel  no  supplies  ? 

Yes,  while  the  dear  Redeemer  lives, 

We  have  a  boundless  store, 
And  shall  be  fed  with  what  he  gives, 

Who  lives  for  evermore." 

In  the  absence  of  their  stated  pastors,  pious 
and  faithful  men  were  raised  up  to  comfort 
and  instruct  the  persecuted  brethren.  Gradu- 
ally their  little  companies  increased,  and  be- 
came large  assemblies.  Consoled  and  edified 


ASSEMBLIES  OF  THE  FAITHFUL.  25 

by  the  discourses  of  the  new  ministers,  the 
people  gladly  received  them  in  the  place  of 
those  whom  the  tyranny  of  their  oppressors 
had  torn  from  them.  Elders  were  also  ap- 
pointed, to  watch  over  the  conduct  of  the 
members,  and  to  give  them  notice  of  the  time 
and  place  for  assembling.  So  closely  were 
they  watched  by  their  enemies,  that  it  was 
often  impossible  to  hold  their  meetings  a 
second  time  in  the  same  place,  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  precautions  they  took. 

At  these  assemblies  they  sung  praises  to 
God,  and  offered  up  the  most  fervent  prayers. 
There  too  they  heard,  with  a  delight  and 
interest  which  we  can  scarcely  conceive,  por- 
tions of  the  sacred  Scriptures.  That  forbidden 
book  could  only  be  read  by  stealth  and  in 
secret.  So  cautious  were  the  Catholics  to 
deprive  the  Protestants  of  this  precious  trea- 
sure, that  there  was  nothing  they  made  more 
accurate  search  after,  when  they  entered  the 
houses  of  the  reformed,  than  Bibles  and  Tes- 
taments. These,  with  all  their  religious  books 
they  could  discover,  were  committed  to  the 
flames. 

To  these  persecuted  ones,  literally  "wan- 
3 


26  M.  D'ALGUE,  AND  THE 

dering  in  deserts  and  caves,"  like  those  of 
whom  the  Holy  Spirit  has  declared,  "  the 
world  was  not  worthy,"  how  inexpressibly 
consoling  it  must  have  been,  to  hear  again 
those  blessed  promises  which  abound  in  the 
written  word!  How  delightful,  once  more 
with  their  brethren,  to  return  thanks  unto  the 
God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  kept  them  by  his  power,  "through  faith 
unto  salvation,  ready  to  be  revealed  in  the  last 
time,"  "  wherein  they  greatly  rejoiced,  though 
now,  for  a  season,  they  were  in  heaviness, 
through  manifold  temptations!" 

With  what  energy  and  unction  did  the  min- 
isters set  before  their  hearers  the  great  truths 
of  the  gospel !  How  strongly  did  they  enforce 
obedience  to  its  commands!  How  affection- 
ately did  they  apply  all  its  consoling  promi- 
ses! In  these  assemblies  also  they  celebrated 
the  ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper  with  the 
most  devout  feelings;  and  while  they  partook 
of  the  symbolic  pledges  of  his  love,  they  felt 
their  faith  strengthened;  and  they  often  sepa- 
rated, encouraging  each  other  to  devote  them- 
selves wholly  to  the  cause  of  Christ,  and  to 
suffer  all  things  cheerfully  for  his  sake.  Thus 


ASSEMBLIES  OP  THE  FAITHFUL.  27 

mutually  comforted  and  edified,  they  "thanked 
God,  and  took  courage. " 

It  has  been  often  remarked,  that  in  seasons 
of  especial  grief,  the  greatest  consolations  are 
vouchsafed.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  the  over- 
whelming distresses  of  the  children  of  Israel, 
that  the  light  shone  miraculously  on  them  in 
Goshen,  when  darkness  covered  the  land  of 
their  Egyptian  oppressors.  It  was  to  the  dis- 
consolate Hagar,  cast  out  of  the  house  of  her 
master,  and  on  the  point  of  perishing  with  her 
child  in  the  wilderness,  that  an  angel  was  sent 
to  comfort  and  strengthen  her.  It  was  in  a 
season  of  the  most  profound  affliction,  that  the 
first  promises  of  the  gospel  were  verified  to 
the  disciples  of  Christ.  The  same  has  been 
experienced  by  the  children  of  God  in  every 
age.  It  was  even  thus  with  the  members  of 
the  Gallic  churches,  in  their  fiery  trial;  and 
they  found  Him  in  whom  they  trusted,  a  very 
present  help  in  time  of  trouble.  Many  en- 
joyed such  strong  spiritual  consolation,  and 
were  so  lifted  above  all  the  sorrows  of  time, 
that  their  souls  were  absorbed  with  holy  joy. 
Their  seasons  of  devotional  exercise  often 
proved  to  them  means  of  deepest  consolation ; 


28 

and  the  feelings  of  some  were  so  highly  raised, 
that  they  believed  they  heard  heavenly  voices 
around  them,  chanting  the  praises  of  God; 
and  that,  in  their  hidden  and  lonely  retreats, 
angel  visitants,  though  unseen,  were  near,  to 
strengthen  their  faith  and  administer  to  their 
comfort  in  the  hour  of  extremity.  And  in 
the  latter  case,  who  shall  presume  to  call  them 
mistaken,  or  to  say  that  they  carried  their 
faith  to  an  unwarrantable  extent?  Are  we  not 
assured,  that  the  angels  of  heaven  are  "  minis- 
tering spirits,  sent  forth  to  minister  to  the 
heirs  of  salvation  ?" 

The  secret  assemblies  to  which  we  have 
alluded,  first  took  place  amid  the  mountains  of 
Cevennes  and  in  Lower  Languedoc.  (See 
Appendix,  Note  1.)  Sometimes  they  were 
held  in  caves,  formed  by  the  excavations  in 
the  extensive  stone  quarries  of  the  district; 
sometimes  in  lonely  houses  in  desert  places; 
sometimes  in  the  open  air,  in  the  most  retired 
situations.  Often  it  happened,  that  the  large 
barns  used  by  the  Catholic  clergy  for  the  re- 
ception of  their  tithes,  standing  at  a  distance 
from  inhabited  buildings,  offered  a  convenient 
rendezvous.  In  these  wild  retreats,  they  met 


ASSEMBLIES  OF  THE  FAITHFUL.  29 

by  the  light  of  glimmering  lamps  for  their 
holy  purposes.  On  one  occasion,  more  than 
two  thousand  persons  were  assembled.  The 
minister,  a  powerful  and  energetic  preacher, 
exhorted  the  congregation  to  guard  against 
every  temptation  to  join  the  Catholic  party, 
and  never  to  allow  themselves  to  be  led  away 
by  the  example  of  those  who,  to  escape  per- 
secution, consented  to  attend  mass.  While 
the  preacher  pressed  on  his  hearers  all  the 
arguments  for  constancy,  M.  Arnaud  Mar- 
chand,  of  St.  Hyppolite,  suddenly  rose,  and 
stretching  forth  his  hand  towards  heaven, 
solemnly  vowed  that  he  would  never  more 
attend  mass.  Such  a  protest,  in  the  midst  of 
such  a  scene,  had  a  powerful  effect  on  the 
minds  of  others;  and,  indeed,  the  greater  part 
of  this  large  assembly  followed  his  example, 
and  took  on  them  this  vow  of  constancy. 

Whatever  hardships  were  connected  with 
attendance  on  these  nightly  meetings,  often  in 
the  most  inconvenient  places  and  in  the  most 
inclement  weather,  happy  did  the  Protestants 
esteem  themselves,  if  they  could  repair  to  the 
place  of  rendezvous  and  return  undiscovered. 
Often  they  were  detected  by  the  watchfulness 
3* 


30  M.  D'ALGUE,  AND  THE 

of  their  enemies,  and  too  often  they  were  be- 
trayed by  false  friends. 

One  assembly,  in  which  an  excellent  min- 
ister, M.  d'Algue,  had  presided,  was  discover- 
ed by  one  of  these  pretended  friends.  They 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  place  sentinels  at 
all  the  avenues,  to  secure  themselves  against 
surprise  while  they  were  engaged  in  the  ex- 
ercises of  piety.  One  of  those  to  whom  they 
had  confided  this  office,  quitted  his  post,  and 
hastened  to  St.  Etienne,  to  give  some  of  the 
king's  troops  information  of  the  assembty. 
An  officer  and  twenty  men  put  themselves 
under  the  guidance  of  the  faithless  sentinel, 
who  conducted  them,  but  too  surely,  to  the 
place  of  meeting.  They  found  the  assembly 
engaged  in  celebrating  the  Lord's  Supper.  In 
the  midst  of  this  peaceful  scene  of  Christian 
communion,  the  soldiers  rushed  in  with  fury, 
making  a  discharge  which  at  once  threw 
many  to  the  ground.  Then  drawing  their 
swords,  they  struck  indiscriminately  at  all 
they  met,  whether  men,  women  or  children, 
killing  some,  and  wounding  great  numbers. 
They  afterwards  pursued  all  who  had  fled  on 
their  approach,  to  hide  themselves  among  the 


ASSEMBLIES  OF  THE  FAITHFUL.  31 

rocks,  and  treated  such  as  they  could  find  in 
a  similar  manner.  Among  those  who  had 
taken  flight,  there  were  many  who,  finding 
they  were  pursued  by  the  soldiers,  threw 
themselves  into  the  river  which  crossed  their 
way,  hoping  to  find  the  fording  place,  and 
pass  in  safety.  But  as  it  was  night  the  greater 
part  were  unable  to  discover  the  ford,  and 
were  carried  away  by  the  current  and  drown- 
ed. M.  d'Algue,  their  pastor,  favoured  by 
the  darkness  escaped  on  this  occasion,  but  was 
taken  some  time  after,  together  with  his 
friend,  the  Sieur  Roques,  one  of  the  elders  of 
the  church  of  Caderles.  They  had  both  re- 
mained firm  to  their  religion,  and  had  been 
compelled  to  seek  concealment,  by  wandering 
about  in  the  forests  for  eighteen  or  twenty 
months.  They  were  at  length  arrested,  and 
brought  to  trial.  The  crimes  of  wThich  they 
were  accused  were,  the  having  kept  them- 
selves concealed  for  a  long  time,  that  they 
might  not  be  obliged  to  change  their  religion; 
the  having  assisted  at  many  Protestant  assem- 
blies, and  performed  in  them  the  functions  of 
ministers  or  readers.  They  pleaded  guilty  to 
all  these  charges;  and  when  they  were  asked  if 


32  M.  D'ALGUE,  AND  THE 

they  were  not  aware  that  they  had  acted  con- 
trary to  the  orders  of  the  king,  they  replied, 
that  they  had  disobeyed  these  orders  because 
they  were  contrary  to  the  commands  of  God, 
and  they  ought  rather  to  obey  God  than  man. 
They  were  condemned  to  be  hung.  A  free 
pardon  was  offered  them,  if  they  would  con- 
sent to  sign  the  abjuration;  but  they  were  not 
men  to  purchase  their  lives  by  such  means. 

Contrary  to  the  usual  custom,  they  were 
conducted  to  punishment  separately,  and  both 
met  their  death  with  the  firmness  of  devoted 
martyrs.  In  going  to  the  place  of  execution, 
they  were  again  solicited  to  unite  themselves 
to  the  Catholic  church,  and  thus  escape  the 
fearful  punishment  which  awaited  them;  but 
they  both  replied,  they  thanked  God  that  he 
had  given  them  grace  to  die  for  his  cause. 

The  executioner  of  Nismes,  who  performed 
the  fatal  office  for  so  many  of  the  followers  of 
Jesus,  was,  it  is  said,  at  length  conscience- 
struck  at  the  enormity  of  his  guilt,  and  fell 
into  a  sickness  which  proved  mortal.  During 
his  illness,  his  place  was  supplied  in  a  way 
scarcely  credible.  His  daughter,  attired  as  a 
man,  took  the  office  on  herself,  and  after  her 


ASSEMBLIES  OF  THE  FAITHFUL.  33 

father's  death  she  assisted  the  new  execu- 
tioner. She  was  in  attendance  with  him  on 
the  scaffold  of  M.  d'Algue.  Possessed,  as  she 
was,  by  the  very  spirit  of  bloodshed  and  vio- 
lence, the  firmness  of  the  sufferer,  instead  of 
commanding  her  respect,  roused  her  to  such 
dxcess  of  anger,  that  she  struck  him  with  her 
clenched  fist  several  times  on  the  face,  with 
inconceivable  fury.  The  patient  sufferer  bore 
this  indignity  without  uttering  a  complaint 
He  listened  calmly  at  the  foot  of  the  scaffold, 
while  his  condemnation  was  read  aloud,  and 
afterwards  mounted  the  ladder  with  a  cheer- 
ful air.  He  then  prayed  for  a  blessing  on 
those  who  had  caused  his  death,  and  exhorted 
his  persecutors  to  repent,  and  be  converted, 
and  no  longer  to  war  against  God. 

Such  was  the  closing  act  of  the  life  of  M. 
d'Algue.  Perhaps  there  is  scarcely  one  among 
the  accounts  of  the  martyrdoms  at  Nismes, 
more  simply  touching  than  this,  from  the 
peculiar  meekness  and  holy  patience  of  the 
victim. 

"  Then  was  the  evil  day  of  tyranny, 

As  yet  the  Church,  the  holy  spouse  of  God, 


34  M. 

In  members  few,  had  wandered  in  her  weeds 
Of  mourning,  persecuted,  scorned,  reproached ; 
And  buffeted,  and  killed;  in  members  few, 
Tho'  seeming  many  whiles;  then  fewest  oft 
When  seeming  most.     She  still  had  hung  her  harp 
Upon  the  willow  tree,  and  sighed,  and  wept 

From  age  to  age.        - 

Troubled  on  every  side,  but  not  distressed; 
Weeping,  but  yet  despairing  not ;  cast  down, 
But  not  destroyed :  for  she  upon  the  palms 
Of  God  was  graven,  and  precious  in  his  sight." 

POLLOK. 


35 
M.  FULCRAND  RE1. 

THE     DEVOTED      PASTOR- 


AMONG  the  ministers  who  sacrificed  their 
lives  on  the  altar  of  their  faith,  was  M.  Ful- 
crand  Rei,  a  young  man  twenty-four  years  of 
age,  student  of  theoJogy^at  Nismes.  From  his 
birth,  his  parents  had  devoted  him  to  the 
ministry,  and  by  the  good  providence  of  God 
he  was  especially  prepared,  at  an  early  age,  to 
enter  on  the  holy  office,  and  peculiarly  fitted 
for  the  discharge  of  its  duties  in  these  trou- 
blous times,  when  a  double  portion  of  faith, 
zeal,  and  unbending  constancy  was  necessary 
for  those  who  became  the  ambassadors  of 
Christ  to  the  people.  With  a  heart  deeply 
affected  by  the  desolate  state  of  the  churches, 
he  gave  himself  up  unreservedly  to  the  cause 
of  the  Redeemer.  His  first  aim  was  to  col- 
lect together  some  of  the  remnants  of  the  scat- 
tered flocks  that  were  now  wandering  as  sheep 


36  M«    FULCRAND    REI, 

without  a  shepherd.  With  this  view,  he  went 
first  into  Upper  Languedoc  and  Guienne, 
where  his  person  was  not  known,  and  where 
he  therefore  might  be  better  able  to  labour  in 
his  office,  undiscovered  by  the  enemies  of  the 
Protestant  church.  But  he  found  the  minds 
of  the  people  in  these  districts  so  filled  with 
alarm  and  consternation,  that  in  most  instances 
they  dared  not  listen  to  his  exhortations,  or 
even  provide  him  with  a  place  of  retreat.  He 
succeeded,  however,  in  gathering  together  two 
or  three  small  assemblies,  assisted  by  two  Pro- 
testant gentlemen,  who  were  themselves  fugi- 
tives, seeking  concealment  from  their  adver- 
saries, having  refused  to  bow  the  knee  to  the 
idol  of  Catholic  worship.  Finding  himself 
unable  to  do  more  in  that  quarter,  he  returned 
to  the  neighbourhood  of  Nismes,  hoping  there 
to  reap  a  richer  harvest;  nor  was  he  altogether 
disappointed.  He  was  favourably  received 
by  his  brethren,  and  had  established  several 
assemblies,  when  he  was  betrayed  by  the 
treachery  of  a  man  who  had  obtained  his  con- 
fidence. But  his  work  was  not  yet  finished, 
and  the  God  whom  he  served  protected  him 
in  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  and  enabled  him 


THE    DEVOTED    PASTOR.  37 

to  retire  with  safety  into  Languedoc.  Here 
and  in  Albigeois  he  resided  some  time,  until 
new  dangers  compelled  him  to  return  into  his 
native  province.  Arrived  once  more  in  the 
vicinity  of  Nismes,  it  was  impossible  for  him 
to  resume  his  pastoral  labours  among  his 
former  friends,  as  it  was  necessary  for  him  to 
keep  himself  as  closely  concealed  as  possible, 
in  order  that  he  might  escape  the  observation 
of  his  enemies.  But  to  a  truly  devoted  mind, 
means  of  usefulness  will  occur,  in  situations 
apparently  the  most  unfavourable. 

M.  Rei  was  enabled,  from  his  obscure  re- 
treat to  pour  consolation  into  the  hearts  of  his 
suffering  brethren  confined  in  the  prisons  of 
the  district,  by  the  letters  he  addressed  to 
them,  tending  powerfully  to  strengthen  their 
faith,  and  confirm  them  in  the  resolution  to 
suffer  every  evil  their  persecutors  could  inflict, 
rather  than  desert  the  holy  cause  in  which 
they  were  engaged.  While  thus  occupied 
with  the  talent  at  that  time  committed  to  his 
care,  a  way  unexpectedly  opened  for  more 
extensive  usefulness.  He  received  an  invita- 
tion to  go  into  the  Cevennes,  where  a  large 
body  of  the  faithful  sighed  after  the  word  of 
4 


38  M.    FULCRAND    REI, 

God.  He  obeyed  this  call  with  joy  and 
thankfulness,  though  fully  aware  of  the  dan- 
gers he  encountered  in  accepting  so  prominent 
a  station  among  the  persecuted.  Impressed 
with  a  sense  of  the  perils  which  awaited  him, 
he  would  not  expose  either  himself  or  his 
father  to  the  anguish  of  a  personal  adieu,  but 
addressed  a  farewell  letter  to  him  before  he 
left  Nismes,  entreating  him  to  prepare  himself 
for  the  early  martyrdom  of  his  son;  telling 
him  that  his  conscience  inspired  him  to  go 
and  sacrifice  himself  for  God,  and  for  the 
interest  of  the  church.  He  expressed  his  en- 
tire resignation  to  the  will  of  his  heavenly 
Master,  in  whatever  way  he  might  see  fit  to 
dispose  of  him;  and  he  exhorted  his  father  not 
to  murmur,  in  case  he  should  hear  that  he  was 
arrested,  but  to  endure  patiently  all  the  suf- 
ferings it  should  please  God  to  send  him. 
Arrived  in  the  Cevennes,  he  preached  the  gos- 
pel with  truth  and  fervour.  To  those  who 
were  faithful  in  the  midst  of  so  many  trials, 
he  addressed  the  word  of  consolation.  Those 
who  had  fallen  into  the  snares  of  the  enemy, 
he  exhorted  to  retrace  their  steps,  and  to  re- 
turn to  their  allegiance,  as  faithful  followers 


THE    DEVOTED    PASTOR.  39 

of  Jesus  Christ.  Those  who  were  wavering, 
he  sought  to  confirm  in  the  right  path,  by  the 
most  powerful  and  affecting  arguments. 

While  he  thus  laboured  with  the  zeal  of  an 
apostle,  the  enemies  of  the  good  cause  to 
which  he  was  devoted  watched  for  his  des- 
truction, and,  a  second  time,  a  treacherous 
friend  was  found  to  betray  his  place  of  retreat. 
He  was  at  Anduze,  concealed  in  the  house  of 
a  tanner  in  the  suburbs.  To  this  house  the 
officers  of  government  were  conducted  by  the 
traitor,  and  M.  Rei  was  seized,  and  dragged 
before  a  magistrate  with  great  violence.  From 
thence  he  was  committed  to  prison,  loaded 
with  irons,  and  kept  constantly  within  sight 
of  the  dragoons,  lest  some  means  of  effecting 
his  escape  should  be  devised.  From  the  pri- 
son of  Anduze  he  was  transferred  to  that  of 
Alez,  from  Alez  to  Nismes,  and  from  Nismes 
to  Beaucaire.  Every  where  he  was  exposed 
to  the  persecutions  of  the  monks  and  others, 
who  undertook  to  labour  for  the  conversion  of 
the  heretics.  They  tried  every  means  to  shake 
his  constancy,  but  in  vain.  When  interro- 
gated by  his  judges,  with  regard  to  the  accu- 
sations brought  against  him,  he  replied  fear- 


40  M.    FULCRAND    RET, 

lessly,  that  he  had  preached  often,  and  in 
every  place  where  he  had  found  the  faithful 
assembled.  But  when  they  wished  to  carry 
their  inquiries  further,  arid  to  induce  him  to 
discover  the  names  of  those  who  attended  the 
assemblies  in  which  he  had  presided,  he  gave 
no  answer,  and  nothing  could  draw  any  fur- 
ther information  from  his  lips. 

Fearful  of  unnerving  his  mind  by  inter- 
views with  those  to  whom  he  was  bound  by 
the  dearest  and  tenderest  ties,  he  begged,  as 
an  especial  favour  of  the  officer  who  conducted 
him  to  Nismes,  that  he  might  not  be  permit- 
ted to  see  his  father,  or  any  of  his  relations 
there;  but  that  they  might  simply  be  inform- 
ed, that  he  was  entirely  resigned  to  the  will 
of  God,  and  that  the  most  cruel  punishments 
could  not  shake  his  constancy. 

It  was  determined  that  he  should  be  exe- 
cuted at  Beaucaire,  rather  than  at  Nismes, 
because  of  the  great  number  of  Protestants  in 
Nismes,  whose  faith,  it  was  feared,  might  be 
strengthened  by  such  an  example  of  firmness 
as  the  young  pastor  exhibited;  while  their 
feelings  could  not  fail  to  be  deeply  affected  by 
witnessing  the  death  of  this  devoted  servant 


THE    DEVOTED    PASTOR.  41 

of  God,  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  his  days,  by  the 
hand  of  the  cruel  oppressor.  Such  a  sight 
was  certainly  no  argument  in  favour  of  that 
church  under  whose  sanction  the  deed  was 
done. 

Beaucaire,  four  leagues  from  Nismes,  had 
long  been  the  residence  of  Catholics,  wholly 
devoted  to  the  superstitions  of  the  Romish 
church,  and  the  light  of  the  reformation  had 
never  penetrated  there.  To  this  place,  there- 
fore, M.  Rei  was  transferred  for  the  final  pun- 
ishment. Here,  as  at  other  places,  he  had  to 
listen  to  the  arguments  of  the  monks  and  other 
persons,  who  came  to  persuade  him  to  change 
his  religion.  The  intendant,  Baville,  one  of 
his  judges,  touched,  it  should  seem,  with  un- 
wonted compassion,  came  to  speak  to  him. 
He  took  him  aside,  and  conjured  him  to  have 
pity  on  himself.  He  threatened  him  with 
death  if  he  persevered  in  his  faith,  and  pro- 
mised him  life,  if  he  would  abandon  his  reli- 
gion. But  neither  threats  nor  promises  had 
power  to  shake  his  resolution. 

When  he  was  brought  out  for  the  final  exa- 
mination before  the  judges,  the  intendant 
made  a  last  effort  to  prevail  with  him  to 
4* 


42  M.  FULCRAND  REI, 

change  his  opinion.  "M.  Rei,"  said  he 
"  there  is  yet  time  to  save  yourself." — "  Yes, 
my  lord,"  replied  M.  Rei,  "and  I  will  employ 
for  my  salvation  the  time  that  remains  to 
me." — "It  is  only  necessary  to  change,"  con- 
tinued the  intendant,  "and  you  shall  live." — 
"It  is  indeed  necessary  to  change,"  replied 
M.  Reij  "  but  it  is  in  going  from  earth  to 
heaven,  where  a  life  of  happiness  awaits  me, 
which  I  shall  soon  possess."  The  intendant 
assured  him  that  he  might  depend  on  his 
words,  and  that  he  would  really  grant  him  his 
life,  if  he  would  change  his  religion.  "  Do 
not  promise  me  this  miserable  life,"  said  he; 
"  I  am  entirely  weaned  from  it.  Death  is 
better  than  life  for  me.  If  I  had  feared 
death,"  he  continued,  "  I  should  not  have 
been  here.  God  has  given  me  a  knowledge 
of  his  truth,  and  he  will  grant  me  grace  to 
profess  it  constantly  unto  death.  For  all  the 
treasures  in  the  world,  I  would  not  renounce 
those  which  God  has  prepared  for  me  in 
paradise." 

After  this,  he  was  again  examined  on  the 
charges  brought  against  him.  The  intendant 
asked  if  he  had  preached:  "Yes,  my  lord," 


THE  DEVOTED  PASTOR.  43 

was  the  reply.  He  was  then  asked  where  he 
had  preached:  he  answered,  "I  have  preached 
in  all  places  where  I  have  found  the  assemblies 
of  the  faithful."  He  was  asked  if  he  knew 
the  king  had  forbidden  it:  "The  King  of 
kings,"  said  he,  "  had  commanded  me  to  do 
it;  and  it  is  right  to  obey  God  rather  than 
man." 

Again  they  attempted  to  discover  in  what 
places  the  assemblies  at  which  he  had  presided 
were  held,  and  what  were  the  names  of  the 
persons  who  attended.  But  on  this  subject 
his  lips  were  firmly  closed,  and  nothing  could 
induce  him  to  expose  his  brethren  to  danger. 

Finding  him  immovable,  they  proceeded  to 
pass  the  sentence.  He  was  condemned  to  be 
hung;  but  first  the  torture  was  to  be  applied, 
to  make  him  discover  his  accomplices.  The 
commissary,  whose  office  it  was  to  read  the 
decree  of  the  court  to  the  prisoner,  desirous,  if 
possible,  to  save  a  man  whose  heroic  conduct 
excited  interest  in  every  breast,  entreated  him 
once  more  to  think  of  himself.  "I  have 
thought/'  replied  he,  "and  my  resolution  is 
taken.  It  is  no  longer  a  question  of  delibe- 
ration. I  am  quite  ready  to  die,  if  God  has 


44  M.   FULCRANU  REI, 

so  ordained  it.  All  the  promises  which  may 
be  made  to  me  can  never  shake  my  constancy." 

The  commissary,  convinced  of  the  firmness 
of  his  prisoner,  at  length  read  the  paper  of 
condemnation.  He  heard  it  without  change 
of  countenance,  or  any  appearance  of  fear  or 
sorrow:  on  the  contrary,  he  testified  his  joy 
that  God  had  given  him  grace  to  suffer  for  his 
name,  and  expressed  his  thankfulness  that  he 
had  been  condemned  to  a  milder  punishment 
than  he  had  anticipated.  "  They  treat  me," 
he  said,  "more  mildly  than  my  Saviour  was 
treated.  I  had  prepared  myself  to  be  broken 
on  the  wheel,  or  burnt  alive."  Then  raising 
his  eyes  to  heaven,  he  exclaimed:  "  I  return 
thee  thanks,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  for  the 
many  benefits  thou  hast  bestowed  upon  me. 
I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  counted  me  worthy 
to  suffer  for  thy  name,  and  to  die  for  thee; 
and  I  thank  thee  also,  that  thou  hast  called  me 
to  suffer  a  death  so  mild,  after  having  disposed 
me  to  endure  the  most  cruel  death  for  love  of 
thee." 

Though  the  torture  was  applied  with  the 
utmost  severity,  he  endured  it  with  so  much 
firmness,  that  he  did  not  allow  a  single  com- 


THE  DEVOTED  PASTOR.  45 

plaint  to  escape  him.  During  this  punish- 
ment, nothing  was  extorted  from  him  to  the 
disadvantage  of  his  brethren.  He  made  no 
reply  to  the  questions  which  were  put  to  him, 
except  that  he  had  said  all,  and  had  nothing 
more  to  confess.  When  he  was  released  from 
the  torture,  he  said  to  those  around  him,  "  I 
"Tiave  scarcely  suffered.  I  believe  that  you 
have  suffered  more  than  I  have.  I  protest  to 
you,  I  have  scarcely  felt  any  pain."  It  was 
proposed  to  him  to  take  some  food;  he  did  not 
object:  he  even  ate  tranquilly,  although  he 
knew  he  had  only  a  few  hours  to  live. 
During  his  repast,  he  said  to  those  about  him, 
"Others  eat  to  live,  and  I  eat  to  die.  This  is 
the  last  repast  I  shall  take  on  earth;  but  in 
heaven  there  is  a  banquet  prepared,  to  which 
I  am  invited,  and  angels  will  this  night  con- 
duct me  to  it.  Glorified  spirits  will  soon 
carry  me  away  to  participate  with  them  in  the 
joys  of  paradise/' 

From  this  time  the  monks  constantly  at- 
tended him,  persecuting  him  with  their  per- 
suasions and  arguments;  but  he  confounded 
them*  all  by  his  answers.  In  the  midst  of 
these  distractions,  he  evidently  sought  to  raise 


46  M.  FULCRAND  REI, 

his  soul  continually  to  God.  Sometimes  he 
gave  utterance  to  fervent  prayer,  or  chanted 
portions  of  the  Psalms.  The  constancy  and 
the  devotion  displayed  in  these  last  hours  of 
his  life,  touched  the  hearts  of  all  his  attendants; 
even  the  monks  could  not  restrain  their  tears. 
In  the  evening,  when  they  were  about  to 
conduct  him  to  the  place  of  punishment,  two 
monks  presented  themselves  to  accompany 
him,  and  told  him  they  were  come  to  comfort 
him.  "I  have  no  need  of  you,"  he  replied: 
"I  have  a  more  faithful  comforter  within  me." 
One  of  them  said,  "  But  do  you  not  wish  that 
we  should  accompany  you?"  "  No,"  replied 
the  martyr;  "  I  have  the  company  of  angels, 
who  are  about  my  person,  and  who  have  pro- 
mised that  they  will  be  with  me  to  my  latest 
breath."  But  the  monks  were  not  to  be  pre- 
vented from  attending  him:  they  walked  on 
either  side  of  him,  and  were  witnesses  of  the 
constancy  with  which  he  went  to  martyrdom. 
His  countenance  was  radiant  with  joy,  and  he 
gave  striking  proofs  of  the  faith  and  hope, 
which  filled  his  heart.  The  streets  through 
which  he  passed  were  crowded  with  people, 
and  among  them  he  perceived  many  persons 


THE  DEVOTED  PASTOR.  47 

of  his  acquaintance  who  had  abjured  the  Pro- 
testant religion.  He  saluted  them;  and  seeing 
the  tears  flow  from  their  eyes,  he  said,  "Weep 
not  for  me,  weep  for  yourselves:  I  shall  very 
soon  he  delivered  from  the  sufferings  of  this 
world,  but  I  leave  you  behind.  Repent,  and 
God  will  have  mercy  on  you." 

He  was  led  out  of  the  town  by  the  gate  of 
Beauregarde.  It  was  from  this  gate  that  he 
discovered  the  scaffold  which  was  prepared 
for  him.  He  had  no  sooner  seen  it,  than  he 
exclaimed  with  holy  transport,  "Courage! 
Courage!  This  is  the  place  which  I  have  so 
long  desired,  and  for  which  God  himself  has 
prepared  me.  I  see  the  heavens  open  to  re- 
ceive me,  and  angels  prepare  to  bear  me 
away." 

As  he  approached  nearer,  he  began  to  sing 
a  Psalm,  but  silence  was  imposed  on  him. 
Having  reached  the  foot  of  the  scaffold,  he 
exclaimed,  "  0,  how  favourable  is  this  ladder 
to  me;  .it  will  serve  me  as  a  step  to  mount  to 
heaven!"  After  this,  he  knelt  down,  and 
continued  a  long  time  in  prayer,  making  use 
of  many  parts  of  the  fifty-first  Psalm,  which 
he  pronounced  aloud,  and  with  much  fervour. 


48  M.  FULCRAND  REI, 

Having  concluded  his  prayer,  he  mounted  the 
ladder  with  firmness  and  composure.  Seeing 
one  of  the  monks  ascending  after  him,  he 
gently  repulsed  him  saying,  "I  have  already 
said,  and  I  tell  you  again,  that  I  have  no  need 
of  your  assistance:  I  have  received  enough 
from  my  God  to  enable  me  to  take  the  last 
step  in  my  career." 

He  would  have  addressed  the  people,  but 
as  soon  as  he  opened  his  mouth,  a  number  of 
kettle  drums  were  struck  to  prevent  his  voice 
from  being  heard.  Perceiving  that  it  would 
be  in  vain  to  speak,  he  resigned  himself  into 
the  hands  of  the  executioner,  with  the  same 
firmness  as  he  had  evinced  from  the  first. 
Soon  the  last  act  of  the  tragedy  was  finished, 
and  the  lifeless  body  was  all  that  remained  on 
earth  of  M.  Fulcrand  Rei.  Even  the  dark- 
ened inhabitants  of  Beaucaire  testified  emo- 
tion at  his  death,  and  many  exclaimed  aloud, 
that  he  had  died  a  true  martyr. 

"  Ye  who  your  Lord's  commission  bear, 
His  way  of  mercy  to  prepare — 
Angels  He  calls  ye — be  your  strife 
To  lead  on  earth  an  angel's  life. 
Think  not  of  rest ;  though  dreams  be  sweet, 


THE  DEVOTED  PASTOR.  49 

Start  up  and  ply  your  heavenward  feet. 

Is  not  God's  oath  upon  your  head, 

Ne'er  to  shrink  back  on  slothful  bed? 

Never  again  your  loins  untie, 

Nor  let  your  torches  waste  and  die, 

Till  when  the  shadows  thickest  fall, 

Ye  hear  your  Master's  midnight  call?*' — KEBLE. 


50 


JEAN  MIGAULT,* 


THE    READER     OF    MOULLB. 


AT  the  village  of  Moulle,  a  few  leagues  from 
Niort,  in  the  department  of  the  Deux  Sev- 
res, lived  Jean  Migault.  He  had  married, 
at  the  age  of  eighteen,  an  amiable  and  pious 
woman,  and  at  five-and-thirty  he  saw  himself 
the  father  of  eleven  children.  To  support 
this  numerous  family,  together  with  his 
mother-in-law,  who  resided  with  them,  all  his 
exertions  were  necessary.  He  inherited  a 
very  small  patrimony,  and  he  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  succeed  his  father  as  reader  in  the 
Protestant  church  of  the  place.  With  this 
he  combined  the  office  of  public  notary,  and 

*  The  circumstances  here  detailed,  are  drawn  from 
"  A  Narrative  of  the  Sufferings  of  a  French  Protestant 
Family,  written  by  John  Migault,  the  Father.  Trans- 
lated, and  now  first  published  from  the  original  Manu- 
script.—London,  1824." 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  51 

he  undertook  the  tuition  of  a  number  of  pupils, 
twelve  of  whom  boarded  at  his  house.  All 
these  various  functions  he  seems  to  have  dis- 
charged faithfully ;  and  he  records,  with  thank- 
fulness, the  peace  and  prosperity  which  at- 
tended him  in  these  years  of  busy  occupation. 

"  Domestic  happiness,  the  only  bliss 
Of  Paradise  that  has  survived  the  fall," 

was  his  in  a  high  degree;  and  the  pious  grati- 
tude with  which  Jean  Migault  and  his  wife 
received  their  every  comfort,  as  immediate 
gifts  from  their  Heavenly  Father,  communi- 
cated to  all  an  inexpressible  sweetness. 

While  months  and  years  were  thus  passing 
happily  away  in  the  village  of  Moulle,  a  dark 
cloud  was  rising  in  the  distance,  which  gradu- 
ally extended  itself,  and  at  last  burst  on  the 
Protestants  of  France,  in  a  fearful  storm  of 
persecution.  Jean  Migault  and  his  wife  were 
not  unobservant  spectators  of  the  coming  dan- 
ger. They  foresaw  that  some  terrible  crisis 
drew  near,  though,  like  the  prophet's  servant 
on  Mount  Carmel,  they  could  discern  the 
symptoms  of  its  approach  only  as  a  cloud  no 
bigger  than  a  man's  hand.  The  Protestants 


52  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

were  still  living  under  the  protection  of  that 
act  of  toleration  so  celebrated  as  the  edict  of 
Nantes;  but  the  power  of  the  Jesuits,  their 
unwearied  enemies,  was  daily  gaining  ground 
in  the  court  of  Louis  XIV.  Every  year  they 
succeeded  in  curtailing  the  privileges  of  the 
Protestant  church. 

As  the  year  1685  approached,  their  acts  be- 
came more  and  more  oppressive;  and  many, 
alarmed  by  the  signs  of  the  times,  already  re- 
tired to  foreign  countries.  The  reader  of 
Moull6  and  his  family,  although  anxious  ob- 
servers of  these  things,  placing  their  humble 
trust  in  Him,  who  had  hitherto  provided  for 
them,  still  pursued  their  occupations,  and  wait- 
ed in  patience  the  result  of  these  oppressions. 
They  little  imagined  how  fearful  the  termina- 
tion would  be. 

First  came  a  decree,  in  1681,  depriving 
Protestants  of  all  civil  employments  what- 
ever, and  including  many  other  severities  for 
those  who  continued  firm  in  the  faith  of  the 
Reformed  church.  By  this  stroke  Migault's 
income  was  greatly  lessened;  in  the  first  place, 
by  the  loss  of  his  office  as  notary,  and  next, 
by  the  secession  of  many  of  his  friends  and 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  53 

neighbours  to  the  Catholic  church.  These 
timid  Protestants,  when  distress  and  persecu- 
tion arose  because  of  the  word,  fell  away,  and 
as  they  were  fearful  of  risking  their  charac- 
ters among  their  newly-acquired  brethren,  by 
leaving  their  children  under  the  care  of  a  Pro- 
testant, Migault's  school  was  so  much  dimin- 
ished, as  to  leave  him  little  chance  of  provi- 
ding for  his  family  from  that  source.  At  this 
juncture,  the  members  of  the  consistory  invi- 
ted him  to  establish  himself  at  Mougon,  and 
offered  him  a  salary  of  sixty  francs  a  year,  if 
he  would  exercise  the  functions  of  reader  and 
secretary  to  the  church  there.  It  was  not 
until  after  much  deliberation,  that  this  offer 
was  accepted  by  the  Migaults,  whose  hearts 
were  filled  with  mournful  presages  of  the  fate 
which  awaited  them  at  Mougon.  Thither 
they  removed  in  February,  1681.  They 
were  no  sooner  arrived,  than  they  met  with 
immediate  opposition  and  unkindness  from 
the  Catholic  minister  resident  there.  It  is 
probable  the  circumstance  of  Migault's  com- 
ing to  officiate  in  the  Protestant  church,  ex- 
cited that  determined  enmity  in  the  heart  of 
the  cur£,  which  he  afterwards  found  too  many 
5* 


54  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

occasions  to  display.  He  began  by  forbidding 
Migault  to  take  up  his  residence  at  Mougon, 
and  threatening  him  with  the  severest  conse- 
quences if  he  settled  himself  any  where  with- 
in the  limits  of  his  territory.  Not  conceiving 
it  would  be  in  the  power  of  this  stern  bigot  to 
execute  his  threats,  he  was  not  intimidated, 
and  he  fixed  himself  in  his  new  residence  as 
quietly  as  he  could,  with  his  wife  and  his 
mother-in-law,  his  eleven  children,  and  his 
twelve  scholars. 

There  this  truly  respectable  family  resum- 
ed their  wonted  employments,  and  were  per- 
mitted to  remain  four  or  five  months  undis- 
turbed by  their  enemies.  At  the  end  of  that 
period,  the  peaceable  inhabitants  of  Mougon 
were  alarmed  by  the  arrival  of  one  of  those 
regiments  of  cavalry,  which  had  filled  so 
many  of  the  Protestant  towns  and  villages 
with  consternation  and  distress.  The  first 
movement  of  these  dragoons,  when  they  en- 
tered any  place,  was  to  quarter  themselves  at 
the  houses  of  the  Protestants,  where  they  ex- 
hibited the  most  rapacious  conduct,  rarely 
quitting  them  until  the  owners  were  entirely 
ruined,  unless  they  avoided  this  extremity  by 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  55 

renouncing  their  faith.  The  moment  they 
professed  themselves  Catholics,  their  persecu- 
tors left  them,  and  repaired  to  the  house  of 
the  nearest  heretic,  to  assist  such  of  their  com- 
rades as  were  already  stationed  there,  in  com- 
pleting either  the  conversion  or  the  ruin  of 
this  family  also. 

Every  day,  numbers  of  these  forced  con- 
verts were  seen  hastening  to  attend  mass. 
Such  was  the  terror  occasioned  by  the  arrival 
of  the  dragoons,  in  consequence  of  the  cruel- 
ties of  which  they  had  been  guilty,  that  it  is 
said,  a  single  soldier  has  been  known  to  de- 
termine all  the  first  families  in  a  place  to  ab- 
jure their  religion,  by  merely  riding  into  the 
town  with  some  scraps  of  paper  in  his  hand, 
which  he  pretended  were  quarter-master's  bil- 
lets. This  readiness  to  change  in  the  many, 
aggravated  tenfold  the  sufferings  of  the  few 
who  remained  firm  and  unshaken.  In  gene- 
ral, the  soldiers  did  not  quit  a  parish  while 
there  was  a  single  Protestant  remaining,  or 
any  property  belonging  to  them  which  could 
be  converted  into  money.  The  mode  of  car- 
rying on  these  executions  was  extremely  sys- 
tematic. They  began  by  demanding  of  their 


56  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

involuntary  hosts  sums  of  the  following 
amount: — for  a  superior  officer  fifteen  francs  a 
day,  for  a  lieutenant  nine  francs,  for  a  private 
soldier  three  francs,  and  thirty  sols  for  the 
lowest  individual  in  any  way  attached  to  the 
regiment.  If  these  demands  were  not  prompt- 
ly complied  with,  they  seized  and  sold  furni- 
ture, cattle,  or  whatever  they  could  most  rea- 
dily find  to  answer  their  purpose.  Many  of 
the  Catholics  acquired  riches  by  these  sales; 
for  the  officer  who  sold  the  goods,  seldom  paid 
any  regard  to  the  real  value  of  the  article,  but 
took  whatever  price  was -offered,  and  if  one 
thing  did  not  bring  him  enough  money,  di- 
rectly sold  more  to  make  up  the  deficiency. 
Thus  cruelly  oppressed  and  despoiled,  those 
who  would  not  apostatize,  were  generally 
compelled,  in  the  end,  to  fly,  in  order  to  save 
their  lives,  or  to  avoid  imprisonment.  Often 
they  effected  their  escape  in  the  night  with 
their  wives  and  children,  and  then  had  no 
resource  but  to  wander  in  the  woods,  without 
food,  and  almost  without  clothing.  There 
might  be  seen  also  women,  separated  from 
their  husbands,  accompanied  by  their  little 
ones,  driven  wild  with  terror  and  distress, 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  57 

and  still  flying,  when  they  were  no  longer 
pursued  by  their  enemies. 

The  persecution  had  raged  for  some  time  in 
the  neighbourhood,  and  warned  by  what  was 
passing  around  him,  Migault  had  prudently 
dismissed  his  pupils,  and  sent  his  own  chil- 
dren into  more  secure  asylums.  They  were 
now  twelve  in  number.  Jean  and  Louis,  un- 
der the  care  of  their  grandmother,  repaired  to 
the  Chateau  of  Grand  Breuil,  belonging  to 
Madame  de  la  Bessiere.  Ann,  Pierre,  and 
Elizabeth,  were  concealed  at  M.  Magnen's,  in 
the  Chateau  of  Gascongnolles.  Jacques  was 
with  a  third  friend;  Charles  and  Gabriel  with 
a  fourth;  Jeanne  and  Marie  with  a  fifth,  and 
Philemon  with  a  sixth.  One  only  remained 
near  the  parents:  this  was  an  infant,  seven- 
teen days  old,  named  Rene.  He  was  under 
the  care  of  a  trusty  nurse,  who  it  was  intend- 
ed should  have  the  care  of  him  till  his  second 
year.  The  nurse  and  her  husband,  though 
Catholics,  were  the  faithful  friends  of  their 
Protestant  employers.  Events  soon  occurred, 
which  proved  the  wisdom  of  these  measures. 
On  the  22d  of  August,  as  the  Protestant  inha- 
bitants of  the  place  were  returning  from 


58  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

church,  they  were  alarmed  by  the  appearance 
of  a  troop  of  cavalry,  commanded  by  M.  de 
la  Brique.  This  officer,  advancing  at  a  gallop, 
quickly  posted  his  troop  in  the  church-yard, 
and  filled  the  most  courageous  of  the  people 
with  terror,  by  his  fierce  and  threatening  de- 
meanour, combined  with  the  knowledge  they 
all  had  of  the  severities  exercised  by  this  very 
troop  in  other  places. 

Scarcely  had  the  trembling  Migaults  reach- 
ed their  habitation,  when  a  quarter-master 
rode  up,  and  without  alighting,  demanded  in 
an  imperious  tone,  whether  they  intended  to 
turn  Catholics.  They  were  well  aware  that 
their  only  means  to  secure  themselves  from 
the  oppressions  of  the  soldiery,  was  to  answer 
in  the  affirmative;  but  endued  with  strength 
from  on  high  to  withstand  the  temptation 
under  which  so  many  sunk,  they  joined  in 
solemnly  assuring  him  that  nothing  could  in- 
duce them  to  change  their  religion.  On 
receiving  this  answer,  he  withdrew  imme- 
diately, but  with  an  air  little  calculated  to 
quiet  their  fears.  Left  alone  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, they  had  no  resource  but  silently  to 
commend  themselves  in  prayer  to  Him  in 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  59 

whose  holy  cause  they  were  sufferers,  and 
who  hath  most  consolingly  declared,  "  There 
is  no  man  who  hath  left  house,  or  parents,  or 
brethren,  or  wife,  or  children,  for  the  king- 
dom of  God's  sake,  who  shall  not  receive 
manifold  more  in  this  present  time,  and,  in 
the  world  to  come,  life  everlasting."  His 
Holy  Spirit  was  present  to  comfort  and  sup- 
port these  humble  Christians  in  their  hour  of 
trial.  Scarcely  had  the  quarter-master  retired, 
when  he  was  succeeded  by  the  commanding 
officer,  M.  de  la  Brique,  who  sternly  demand- 
ed what  sum  they  would  give  him  per  day, 
during  his  stay  in  the  place;  giving  them  to 
understand,  that  according  to  their  liberality 
towards  himself,  he  should  fix  the  number  of 
soldiers  to  be  quartered  on  them.  He  was 
told,  that  they  had  really  no  money  at  all  to 
offer  him.  Perfectly  unmoved  by  this  decla- 
ration, he  proceeded  to  examine  every  part  of 
the  house,  and  afterwards  the  stables;  and 
then  withdrew,  leaving  them  uncertain  what 
punishment  he  would  deem  due  to  them  for 
refusing  to  give  him  what  they  did  not  pos- 
sess. 

They  were  not  left  long  in  suspense.     Two 


60  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

soldiers  soon  presented  themselves  with  their 
billets;  and  having  lodged  their  horses  in  the 
stable,  commanded  their  host  to  prepare  a  din- 
ner for  them.  They  gave  detailed  orders 
for  their  meal,  which,  without  exaggeration, 
would  have  been  sufficient  for  twenty  persons. 
While  the  food  was  preparing,  two  more  ar- 
rived, and  having  placed  their  horses  in  the 
stable,  joined  their  comrades  in  the  house. 
These  were  quickly  followed  by  a  fifth.  The 
presence  of  five  rapacious  and  insolent  sol- 
diers, might  have  been  thought  enough  for  a 
single  family  to  endure;  but  scarcely  were 
these  all  arrived,  when  they  were  followed  by 
four  others,  who,  under  pretext  that  the  hay 
they  had  found  in  the  stable  was  not  of  the 
best  quality,  began  to  use  the  most  abusive 
language  to  their  host,  and  to  give  utterance 
to  the  grossest  imprecations,  and  the  most  im- 
pious blasphemies. 

All  the  company  then  began  to  demand, 
with  loud  threats,  a  supply  of  different  arti- 
cles, which  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  in  that 
little  town.  Migault  represented  to  them, 
that  the  only  means  of  procuring  these  things 
was  by  sending  to  Niort;  and  in  their  eager- 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  Q\ 

ness  to  get  what  they  had  asked  for,  they  gave 
him  permission  to  go  out  and  seek  for  a  mes- 
senger. On  leaving  his  house,  his  first  care 
was  to  repair  to  that  of  two  Catholic  ladies, 
which  was  contiguous  to  his  own,  and  which 
even  had  a  communication  with  it,  by  means 
of  a  concealed  door.  These  benevolent  wo- 
men, uninfluenced  by  their  differences  in  reli- 
gion, were  his  warm  and  devoted  friends,  as 
they  had  soon  occasion  to  prove  themselves. 
To  these  ladies  he  addressed  himself,  begging 
they  would  point  out  some  person  whom  he 
might  send  on  his  errand  to  Niort.  While  he 
was  still  speaking  with  them,  six  soldiers  rode 
up  to  the  door,  and  demanded  a  direction  to 
Migault's  house.  The  ladies  pointed  out  the 
house,  and  then  returning  to  their  poor  friend, 
earnestly  recommended  him  to  fly,  as  the  only 
means  of  safety.  They  told  him  that  the 
arrival  of  this  additional  number  of  soldiers  to 
be  quartered  at  his  house,  was  a  proof  that  his 
enemies  were  resolved  on  his  ruin;  and  indeed 
they  knew  but  too  certainly  that  the  cure  was 
determined  to  leave  no  means  untried  to  ac- 
complish it.  They  said  it  would  be  the  height 
of  imprudence  to  return  to  his  house,  and 
6 


62  JEAN   MIGAULT. 

could  benefit  nobody;  and  that,  if  he  would 
consent  to  conceal  himself,  they  would  pro- 
mise not  to  abandon  his  wife,  and  they  would 
even  venture  to  assure  him,  that  before  the 
end  of  the  day  they  would  find  means  to  with- 
draw her  likewise  from  the  power  of  their 
enemies.  This  they  would  undertake  to  do, 
whatever  might  be  the  consequence  of  their 
interference  to  themselves.  Poor  Migault 
lifted  up  his  heart  to  God,  and  implored  him, 
in  his  mercy,  to  grant  him  wisdom  to  direct 
his  steps  aright.  All  the  perils  of  a  return  tp 
his  dwelling  presented  themselves  forcibly  to 
his  mind,  and  he  resolved  to  follow  the  advice 
of  these  excellent  women,  as  the  only  proba- 
ble way  of  extricating  either  himself  or  his 
wife  from  their  distressing  situation.  One  of 
these  kind-hearted  friends  conducted  him,  by 
a  back  street,  into  a  garden  surrounded  by 
high  walls.  There  she  left  him,  locking  the 
door  after  her.  It  was  then  between  three 
and  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  he  re- 
mained in  the  garden  until  eight  in  the  even- 
ing, tortured  with  a  thousand  fears  for  his 
wife.  He  fancied  that  he  even  heard  her 
calling  on  his  name  for  assistance,  and  gently 


JEAN   MIGAULT.  63 

reproaching  him  for  having  abandoned  her  at 
the  time  when  she  most  needed  his  support. 
In  truth,  her  sufferings,  during  the  hours  he 
remained  in  the  garden,  were  still  greater  than 
his  imagination  had  depicted;  so  great  indeed, 
that  when  he  came  to  hear  the  circumstances, 
he  could  only  attribute  it  to  a  particular  inter- 
ference of  a  merciful  Providence  that  her  life 
was  preserved.  She  was  at  the  time  in  a  deli- 
cate state  of  health,  having  never  recovered 
her  strength  since  the  birth  of  her  infant,  and 
therefore  was  the  more  especially  unfit  to 
endure  hardship.  But  nothing  moved  these 
men  to  pity.  As  soon  as  they  suspected  that 
Migault  had  made  his  escape,  they  resolved  to 
wreak  their  vengeance  on  his  wife.  Weak 
and  exhausted  as  she  was,  she  had  dragged 
herself,  at  their  command,  to  another  apart- 
ment to  fetch  them  more  wine.  One  of  the 
soldiers  now  went  in  search  of  her,  and  strik- 
ing her  with  violence,  brought  her.  back  into 
the  dining-room:  then,  with  the  most  barbar- 
ous irony,  he  told  her  that  in  her  weak  state 
it  must  be  desirable  to  keep  her  as  warm  as 
possible,  and  he  compelled  her  to  sit  in  the 
chimney-corner,  while  his  companions  made 


64  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

a  large  fire.  They  even  amused  themselves 
with  feeding  the  fire,  by  throwing  on  it  arti- 
cles of  furniture  they  found  in  the  room. 
Meanwhile  the  heat  was  so  great,  that  those 
who  detained  the  poor  victim  so  close  to  it 
were  obliged  to  relieve  each  other  every  few 
minutes.  But  "  this  admirable  woman,"  says 
her  husband,  "  knowing  in  whom  she  had 
believed,  did  not  for  a  single  instant  lose  her 
tranquillity  of  soul.  She  resigned  into  the 
hands  of  her  Saviour  all  which  could  disquiet 
or  torment  her."  Her  persecutors  tried  to 
induce  her  to  renounce  the  Protestant  faith, 
but  she  repulsed  all  their  importunities  with 
firmness,  until  overcome  by  the  distressing 
effects  of  their  cruelty,  she  fainted,  and  be- 
came insensible  to  their  outrages. 

The  benevolent  Catholic  ladies  were  not 
unmindful  of  their  promise  to  Migault.  They 
were  present  at  this  scene,  and  sought  in  vain 
to  soften  the  ferocious  men  by  whom  they 
saw  their  poor  neighbour  surrounded.  They 
threw  themselves  at  the  feet  of  the  officer, 
entreating  him  to  release  her  from  her  tor- 
mentors. Their  intercession  was  in  vain;  the 
officer  was  as  inexorable  as  the  men:  but  that 


JEAN    MIGAtJET.  65 

gracious  God  who  is  ever  ready  to  aid  his 
children  in  the  midst  of  their  greatest  perils, 
had  provided  a  deliverer  for  her.  A  few  days 
before,  some  business  had  called  away  the  cure 
who  was  so  much  the  enemy  of  the  Migaults, 
to  a  distance,  and  his  place  was  supplied  for  a 
short  time  by  the  vicar,  who  was  an  excellent 
man,  and  one  who  had  often  testified  his  re- 
gard for  these  good  Protestants.  He  was  in 
the  midst  of  a  numerous  circle  of  his  friends, 
when  some  one  told  him  of  the  cruelties  exer- 
cised by  the  soldiers,  and  he  hastened  to  the 
house,  to  exert  his  influence  for  the  relief  of 
the  poor  sufferer.  He  succeeded  in  rescuing 
Madame  Migault  from  the  hands  of  her  per- 
secutors, but  not  until  he  had  first  engaged  to 
return  her  to  them,  unless  he  could  induce  her 
to  embrace  the  Catholic  religion  by  his  milder 
arguments.  Her  charitable  neighbours  heard 
this  engagement  made  on  the  part  of  the  mi- 
nister, and  were  resolved  to  leave  him  no 
opportunity  to  fulfil  it.  They  immediately 
led  their  poor  friend,  more  dead  than  alive, 
into  another  apartment;  and  when  the  vicar 
would  have  followed,  they  told  him,  that  in 
the  state  of  health  in  which  she  was,  it  was 
6* 


66  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

absolutely  necessary  to  leave  her  alone  with 
them  for  a  few  moments  of  repose.  As  soon 
as  they  had  dismissed  the  friendly  vicar,  they 
hurried  the  poor  invalid  through  the  secret 
door,  into  their  own  dwelling;  and  then,  assist- 
ing her  to  ascend  to  the  garret,  concealed  her 
under  a  heap  of  linen  which  happened  to  be 
there.  Having  arranged  their  plan  as  speedily 
as  possible,  they  returned  through  the  secret 
door  to  the  house  of  Migault,  and  presented 
themselves  calmly  before  the  vicar,  who  im- 
mediately demanded,  "  Where  is  my  pri- 
soner?" "She  is  no  longer  in  the  power  of 
these  monsters  in  human  form,"  they  replied. 
"  Ah,  well,"  said  the  liberal-minded  minister, 
"  may  the  All-powerful  grant  to  her  and  her 
husband  his  merciful  protection:"  and  without 
staying  to  speak  again  to  the  soldiers,  he  left 
the  house. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  rage  of 
the  disappointed  soldiers,  when  their  victim 
was  escaped.  They  examined  every  corner 
of  the  house,  and  even  proceeded  to  that  of 
the  charitable  ladies.  The  very  garret  in 
which  Madame  Migault  was  hidden,  was  sub- 
mitted to  their  search:  but  here  the  protecting 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  67 

care  of  that  gracious  God  in  whom  she  trusted, 
was  especially  manifested;  the  heap  of  linen 
was  the  only  thing  in  the  room  they  did  not 
examine.  After  this  vain  attempt  at  disco- 
very, the  soldiers  returned  to  Migault's  house, 
to  console  themselves  for  their  loss,  by  drink- 
ing the  wine,  and  seizing  on  every  thing  they 
wished.  The  ladies  hastened  to  inform  Mi- 
gault  of  the  safety  of  his  wife,  and  directing 
him  to  take  the  most  hidden  road  to  the 
neighbouring  forest,  promised  to  bring  her  at 
nightfall,  to  meet  him  at  a  particular  spot. 

The  meeting  was  happily  effected;  as  the 
soldiers,  instead  of  watching  the  roads,  re- 
mained at  the  house,  making  merry  over  the 
wine.  The  fugitives  made  their  way  as  ra- 
pidly as  they  could,  to  the  Chateau  of  Gas- 
congnolles,  on  the  road  to  Niort,  where  they 
had  been  advised  to  take  refuge.  They  were 
hospitably  received  by  the  owner,  and  pre- 
vailed on  to  retire  to  rest;  but  so  great  was 
the  agitation  of  their  minds,  that  they  could 
not  close  their  eyes.  Every  noise  seemed  to 
them  like  the  trampling  of  steeds,  and  every 
voice  like  the  menaces  of  soldiers,  seeking 
their  destruction.  Unable  to  feel  any  confi- 


68  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

dence  of  safety  while  they  were  so  near  Mou- 
gon,  they  parted  from  their  generous  enter- 
tainer, and  proceeded  two  leagues  further  to 
Niort.  Here  they  took  up  their  abode  at  the 
house  of  another  friend,  carefully  confining 
themselves  to  their  room,  lest  their  retreat 
should  be  discovered.  The  soldiers,  however, 
had  a  wide  field  before  them,  and  having  ob- 
tained all  the  pillage  they  could  in  one  quar- 
ter, they  soon  passed  on  to  another,  but  not 
without  leaving  mournful  traces  of  their  visits. 
It  might  almost  be  said  of  them,  "  The  land 
was  as  the  garden  of  Eden  before  them,  and 
behind  them  a  desolate  wilderness." 

After  some  time  had  passed,  the  persecuted 
Protestants,  finding  all  was  quiet,  ventured  to 
steal  forth  from  their  hiding-places.  In  order 
to  ascertain  how  far  it  might  be  safe  for  the 
family,  but  especially  for  Migault  himself,  to 
return  to  Mougon,  his  courageous  and  devoted 
wife  went  alone  to  the  chateau  of  Gascon- 
gnolles.  Here  she  heard  of  the  destruction  of 
part  of  their  furniture,  and  the  sale  of  the  rest. 
She  afterwards  went  to  her  deserted  home, 
accompanied  by  three  of  her  children,  and 
endeavoured  to  purchase  back  such  portions 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  69 

of  her  household  goods  as  the  little  money  she 
had  to  offer  would  procure.  Very  little  could 
be  obtained;  for  those  who  had  purchased  the 
articles  at  the  sale,  for  a  twentieth  part  of  their 
value,  would  not  now  dispose  of  them,  except 
at  a  price  she  was  unable  to  give.  Nothing 
remained  for  them  to  do,  but  to  commit  their 
cause  to  Him  who  judgeth  righteously,  and 
acquiesce  submissively  in  what  he  permits,  as 
well  as  what  he  ordains,  assured  that  he  can 
bring  good  out  of  evil,  and  will  cause  all 
things  to  work  together  for  good  to  those  who 
fear  his  name. 

Bereft  of  occupation,  and  not  knowing  how 
to  provide  for  his  family,  Migault  set  out  with 
two  of  his  sons,  without  any  determined  ob- 
ject in  view.  They  went  first  to  Grand 
Breuil,  and  from  thence  to  Rochelle.  At  this 
port  they  found  many  Protestant  families  from 
their  own  neighbourhood,  whom  the  terrors 
of  the  persecution  had  driven  from  their 
homes,  and  who  were  waiting  to  embark  for 
Holland,  England,  Ireland,  and  a  few  for  Car- 
olina. These  respectable  and  unoffending 
people  seemed  filled  with  consternation,  and 
it  was  affecting  to  witness  the  deplorable  cir- 


70  JEAN   MIGAULT. 

cumstances  under  which  they  were  quitting 
their  native  country. 

In  1681,  the  government  put  forth  a  decla- 
ration, permitting  children  to  renounce  their 
religion  at  the  age  of  seven  years,  and  under 
the  sanction  of  this  decree,  great  numbers  of 
children  were  seized  by  the  agents  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  church  to  make  them  abjure. 
The  dread  of  having  their  children  torn  from 
them,  determined  numbers  of  families  in  Poi- 
tou,  Saintonge,  and  the  neighbouring  pro- 
vinces, to  emigrate,  so  early  as  1681,  and  thus 
escape  the  horrors  which  awaited  those  who 
remained  in  the  kingdom.  Poor  Migault  also 
meditated  the  departure  of  himself  and  those 
dearest  to  him;  but  he  knew  not  how  to  carry 
his  plans  into  effect,  with  his  family  scattered 
over  so  wide  a  space  of  country.  For  the 
present  it  seemed  impossible,  and  he  finally 
determined  to  retrace  his  steps  to  Grand 
Breuil,  with  his  two  dear  boys,  not  venturing 
as  yet  to  be  seen  at  his  old  post.  At  Grand 
Breuil  he  remained  during  the  vintage;  and 
then,  finding  that  the  cavalry  had  retired  to  a 
considerable  distance  from  Mougon,  he  re- 
paired thither,  flattering  himself  with  the  hope 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  71 

that  they  might  not  be  molested  again.  He 
now  ventured  to  assemble  around  him  again 
the  whole  of  his  beloved  family.  Whatever 
other  possessions  the  marauders  had  been  per- 
mitted to  tear  from  him,  these,  his  dearest 
earthly  treasures,  were  still  preserved;  and 
with  hearts  full  of  gratitude,  parents  and  chil- 
dren found  themselves  once  more  gathered 
together  under  that  lowly  roof,  beneath  which 
they  had  heretofore  enjoyed  so  much  domestic 
happiness.  Some  of  their  pupils  likewise  re- 
turned; the  school  was  again  in  active  opera- 
tion, and  they  were  all  busily  occupied,  and 
thankfully  enjoying  this  return  to  the  peaceful 
duties  of  their  station.  But  scarcely  had  they 
tasted  the  cup  of  joy,  when  it  was  again  dashed 
from  their  lips.  Only  two  weeks  after  they 
had  returned  to  their  dwelling  and  resumed 
their  occupations,  a  body  of  troops  entered  the 
adjoining  parish  of  Thorigne.  It  was  chiefly 
inhabited  by  Protestants,  who  had  been  ena- 
bled to  stand  firm  in  the  day  of  trial,  during 
the  first  visit  of  the  military  to  that  quarter. 
Very  few  had  been  induced  to  renounce  their 
creed;  and  the  cure,  a  severe  and  bigoted 
man,  was  so  incensed  by  the  constancy  they 


72  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

exhibited,  that  he  now  instigated  the  soldiers 
to  acts  of  wanton  cruelty,  compared  with 
which  their  former  conduct  was  mild  and 
harmless.  But  the  good  protestants  of  Tho- 
rigne  were  still  enabled  to  stand  their  ground. 
He  in  whose  gracious  keeping  they  confided, 
and  for  whose  sake  they  were  willing  to  bear 
all  manner  of  evil,  gave  them  a  spirit  of 
patient  endurance,  honourable  to  the  cause 
they  had  espoused,  and  calculated  to  strengthen 
the  faith  of  those  weaker  brethren,  who  might 
have  been  ready  to  yield  when  the  enemy 
approached  their  borders.  They  could  say 
with  the  Psalmist,  "My  soul  is  continually  in 
my  hand,  yet  do  I  not  forget  thy  law.  The 
wicked  have  laid  a  snare  for  me,  yet  I  erred 
not  from  thy  precepts.  I  have  inclined  my 
heart  to  perform  thy  statutes  always,  even 
unto  the  end." 

Very  few  instances  of  apostasy  occurred 
notwithstanding  the  severe  measures  adopted; 
and  the  forest  was  crowded  a  second  time  with 
fugitives,  who  sought  a  temporary  shelter  from 
the  fury  of  their  enemies.  The  Migaults 
trembled  at  what  was  passing  around  them, 
and  determined  once  more  to  quit  Mougon, 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  73 

and  place  themselves  and  their  whole  family 
under  the  protection  of  Madame  de  la  Bess- 
iere,  who  had  generously  offered  them  her 
chateau  as  an  asylum.  On  the  last  day  of 
October,  they  decided  to  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  to  set  out  in  the  course  of  the  fol- 
lowing night.  Migault  went  into  the  country 
to  borrow  a  horse,  on  which  they  might  carry 
three  of  the  younger  children,  who  were  una- 
ble to  walk  so  far,  and  his  wife  packed  up 
their  scanty  wardrobe,  and  made  every  pre- 
paration for  their  departure.  "  It  is  indeed  a 
true  aphorism,"  Migault  remarks  at  this  part 
of  his  narrative:  "It  is  indeed  a  true  apho- 
rism, that  though  man  proposes,  it  is  God 
who  disposes.  He  was  pleased  to  frustrate 
our  project;  and  I  hope  we  were  preserved 
from  all  impious  and  unavailing  complaints." 
The  cur£  still  bent  on  accomplishing  the 
ruin  of  his  poor  neighbours,  advised  the  com- 
mander of  the  troops  in  Thorigne  to  march 
suddenly  to  Mougon,  in  order  that  he  might 
entrap  the  three  Protestant  families  residing 
there,  without  giving  them  time  to  make  their 
escape.  Madame  Migault  was,  with  three  of 
her  younger  children,  awaiting  her  husband's 


74  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

return)  when  she  saw  the  soldiers  enter  at 
both  their  gates.  Taken  thus  by  surprise,  she 
had  only  time  to  seize  two  of  the  children,  and 
escape  through  the  private  door,  to  which  she 
had  before  been  indebted  for  her  safety.  The 
kind  ladies  who  had  befriended  her  in  the 
former  case,  were  not  wanting  in  care  and 
attention  now.  They  secreted  her  and  her 
two  children  in  a  corn-loft.  The  soldiers, 
attended  by  the  cure,  searched  for  the  Mi- 
gaults  in  their  own  dwelling,  and  in  the  house 
of  their  friends,  without  being  able  to  discover 
them.  For  some  hours,  Madame  Migault 
remained  concealed  in  the  loft,  with  her  two 
children,  a  prey  to  the  most  distressing  anxi- 
ety, and  unable  to  ascertain  the  fate  of  her 
husband  and  the  rest  of  her  family.  The  dear 
little  boy  she  had  left  in  the  house,  she  could 
hear  crying,  as  in  great  distress,  and  calling  on 
her  for  help.  By  and  by  his  cries  ceased; 
and  she  afterwards  found  that,  terrified  by  the 
harsh  treatment  of  the  depredators,  he  stole 
away  into  the  garden,  and  endeavoured  to 
hide  himself  in  an  alley  of  evergreens,  where 
he  was  observed  by  a  poor  woman,  who  com- 
passionately took  him  to  her  own  home  for 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  75 

security.  The  mother  of  Madame  Migault 
was  also  in  the  house  when  the  cavalry  were 
seen  to  approach.  She  sought  refuge  in  a 
neighbouring  dwelling,  and  happily  succeeded 
in  gathering  round  her  four  of  the  children, 
who  were  wandering  in  the  streets. 

The  soldiers  seized  on  the  packages  of 
clothing,  and  sold  or  bartered  what  they  did 
not  want:  they  did  the  same  by  the  beds,  &c.; 
and  afterwards,  with  the  assistance  of  a  car- 
penter, whom  the  cure  had  summoned  to  help 
them,  they  destroyed  every  piece  of  furniture 
which  had  not  been  sold,  broke  down  the  clo- 
sets, and  demolished  all  the  windows  and 
doors,  leaving  the  house  a  ruin.  Madame 
Migault  was  within  hearing  of  this  work  of 
destruction,  being  only  separated  from  it  by  a 
wall.  The  silence  that  followed,  indicated 
that  her  riotous  assailants  had  departed. 

In  the  course  of  the  night,  she  ventured  to 
quit  her  place  of  concealment,  and  sought 
refuge,  for  a  short  time^,  with  the  worthy  wo- 
man who  nursed  her  youngest  child,  then  only 
twelve  weeks  old.  This  dear  infant  she  found 
in  a  state  which,  under  other  circumstances, 
would  have  absorbed  all  her  feelings,  and 


76  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

induced  her  to  devote  her  whole  time  to  the 
little  sufferer: — it  was  evidently  almost  at  its 
last  gasp.  It  was  heart-breaking  to  turn  away 
from  her  dying  infant,  and  not  catch  its  last 
sigh,  and  imprint  the  latest  kiss  on  its  cold 
lips  and  pallid  cheek:  but  the  afflicted  mother 
did  not  forget  that  she  had  eleven  other  chil- 
dren, who  claimed  a  parent's  care,  and  whose 
lives  she  might,  under  God,  be  the  means  of 
preserving.  She  felt  it  was  not  in  her  power 
to  do  any  thing  to  prolong  his  fleeting  life, 
which  was  ebbing  fast  away.  She  could  only 
commit  him,  with  Christian  submission,  to  the 
keeping  of  that  gracious  Saviour  who  invites 
these  little  ones  to  come  unto  him,  and  who 
has  given  to  the  bereaved  and  mourning 
parent  the  consoling  assurance,  that  there  is 
place  for  them  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

With  an  agonized  heart,  she  forced  herself 
from  her  dying  babe,  confiding  him  to  the  ten- 
der care  of  his  sympathizing  nurse,  and  has- 
tened to  the  house  of  M.  Champion,  the  Pro- 
testant minister,  hoping  she  might  there  hear 
tidings  of  her  husband.  He,  on  his  part,  was 
ignorant  of  this  second  occupation  of  his  house, 
until  late  in  the  evening;  when,  returning 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  77 

homeward  with  the  horse  which  he  had  gone 
a  considerable  distance  to  borrow,  he  was  met 
by  an  acquaintance,  who  warned  him  not  to 
approach  his  house,  as  the  soldiers  were  there 
and  searching  for  him.  He  dismounted  from 
the  horse,  and  requesting  his  informant  to 
leave  it  at  M.  Champion's,  he  proceeded  on 
foot,  accompanied  by  his  faithful  companion, 
Dillot,  who  had  resolved  to  assist  them  in 
their  endeavours  to  escape  to  the  chateau  of 
Grand  Breuil.  Favoured  by  the  darkness  of 
the  evening,  they  stole  unobserved  to  the 
house  of  the  nurse.  From  her,  Migault  learn- 
ed that  his  wife  was  just  gone  from  thence  to 
M.  Champion's.  He  too  could  only  gaze  for 
a  few  minutes  on  his  suffering  child,  and  kiss 
the  dying  infant  for  the  last  time,  ere  he  has- 
tened to  join  his  afflicted  wife,  at  the  house  of 
the  minister.  The  poor  babe  expired  in  the 
course  of  the  night,  but  they  never  looked  OR 
it  again.*  They  felt  the  necessity  of  remov- 

*  They  were  not  acquainted  with  its  death  till  four 
days  after.  Judge  of  their  feelings,  when  they  were  told 
that  the  cure  had  done  all  he  could  to  prevail  on  the  hus- 
band of  the  nurse,  (a  Papist,)  not  only  to  refuse  a  grave 
to  the  innocent  child,  but  even  to  throw  its  lifeless  body 
7* 


78  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

ing  immediately  from  the  neighbourhood. 
Dillot  and  another  person  went  in  search  of 
the  children,  and  returned  with  the  two 
eldest,  and  the  little  boy  who  had  been  ex- 
posed to  the  rage  of  the  soldiers.  They  set 
out  with  this  division  of  their  family,  as 
speedily  as  they  could,  intending  to  travel 
through  the  night.  The  mother  was  mounted 
on  the  borrowed  horse,  carrying  the  little 
Elizabeth  in  her  arms;  and  Peter  and  Mary 
were  in  panniers,  placed  across  the  back  of 
the  animal:  the  two  eldest  walked  with  their 
father.  At  midnight,  they  reached  a  farm- 
house belonging  to  an  acquaintance,  where 
they  rested  a  few  minutes,  and  then  continued 
their  march,  till  they  reached  the  chateau  of 
Grand  Breuil. 

To  this  hospitable  retreat  Dillot  subsequent- 
ly succeeded  in  conducting  all  the  children, 

to  the  dogs.  Such  savage  barbarity  is  scarcely  credible  • 
but  when  the  heart  is  once  resigned  to  malevolent  pas- 
sions, it  is  impossible  to  say  where  it  will  stop.  The  man 
withstood  the  instances  of  the  cure,  and  consigned  the 
body  of  his  little  charge  to  the  Protestant  minister,  by 
whom  it  was  interred  in  the  burying-ground  belonging  to 
his  church. 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  79 

one  after  another,  and  their  grandmother;  so 
that  they  once  more  saw  themselves  assem- 
bled under  one  roof.  The  soldiers  were  still 
actively  engaged,  and  the  reports  which  the 
inmates  of  the  chateau  received  from  the  fugi- 
tives, dispersed  over  the  country,  were  not 
such  as  to  encourage  any  attempt  to  return  to 
Mougon. 

With  regard  to  Migault's  private  affairs, 
speaking  of  those  who  had  wronged  him,  by 
unjustly  detaining  his  property,  he  says:  "I 
forbear  to  mention  their  names,  for  I  should 
be  sorry  if  my  children  bore  them  enmity. 
The  dishonest  detention  of  my  furniture  and 
apparel  added  very  little  to  their  wealth, 
while  it  added  nothing  to  their  happiness.  I 
freely  forgive  them.  They  could  not  deprive 
us  of  the  true  riches.  We  staked  our  souls 
upon  God's  eternal  truth,  and  felt  assured, 
that  what  he  has  promised  he  is  willing  to  per- 
form. He  whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all 
his  works,  who  feeds  the  ravens,  and  in  whom 
every  believer  may  find  a  supply  of  all  his 
wants,  did  not  desert  us  in  our  time  of  need. 
When  we  quitted  Mougon,  doubtless  we  were 
considered  miserable  outcasts,  with  scanty  rai- 


80  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

ment,  and  without  the  means  of  procuring 
food:  yet  there  was  no  cold  against  which  we 
were  not  able  to  guard,  and  we  felt  no  hunger 
which  we  could  not  satisfy.  Madame  de  la 
Bessiere  was  no  sooner  informed  that  we  had 
made  her  chateau  our  place  of  refuge,  than  she 
sent  the  keys,  and  insisted  on  our  eating  her 
corn,  drinking  her  wine,  and  burning  her 
wood.  This  exemplary  Christian  was  thus 
the  means  of  preserving  our  lives,  with  all 
their  comforts/'  Such  is  the  meek  and  thank- 
ful spirit  exhibited  by  the  narrator  of  these 
trying  scenes  in  his  eventful  life. 

The  persecution  continued  to  rage  during 
the  whole  of  November;  and  it  was  not  until 
near  the  close  of  December  that  they  could, 
with  any  hope  of  safety,  think  of  returning  to 
Mougon.  There  was  still  danger  in  doing  so; 
but  they  felt  the  impropriety  of  trespassing  on 
the  generosity  of  Madame  de  la  Bessiere  any 
longer  than  was  absolutely  necessary.  After 
some  consideration,  they  finally  decided  to 
accept  an  invitation  to  Mauze,  and  relinquish 
their  home  at  Mougon  altogether.  They  were 
induced  to  take  this  step  by  the  earnest  impor- 
tunities of  two  of  their  friends,  whose  sons  had 


JEAN   MIGAULT.  81 

been  under  Migault's  care,  and  who  were 
again  to  become  his  pupils.  The  plan  suc- 
ceeded beyond  their  most  sanguine  expecta- 
tions. No  sooner  were  they  established  there, 
than  many  of  their  former  boarders,  whom 
they  had  been  obliged  to  dismiss,  returned  to 
them,  and  they  had,  beside,  many  applications 
from  day-scholars.  They  had  now  full  em- 
ployment, and  ample  earnings  for  the  support 
of  their  family:  "and  it  pleased  heaven,"  the 
narrator  adds,  "to  give  us  the  hearts  of  all  the 
inhabitants."  Thus  they  once  more  lifted  up 
their  heads  in  hope,  and  went  on  their  way 
rejoicing.  But  another  trial,  of  a  different 
nature  from  any  of  the  foregoing,  awaited  the 
reader  of  Moulle. 

Little  more  than  a  year  had  elapsed  from 
the  time  of  his  settling  at  Mauz6  when  his 
beloved  wife  was  taken  from  him  by  a  fever, 
after  a  few  days'  illness.  "  On  Sunday,  the 
28th  of  February/'  writes  the  afflicted  hus- 
band, "this  dear  saint  resigned  her  happy 
spirit  into  the  hands  of  her  Saviour."  He 
then  expresses  his  thankfulness  for  the  bless- 
ings which  were  permitted  to  cheer  the  clos- 
ing scenes  of  her  life,  and  acknowledges  the 


82  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

cause  he  has  for  gratitude,  when  he  remem- 
bers how  peacefully  her  last  days  were  passed, 
as  well  as  for  the  mercy  shown  to  her,  in  that 
she  was  taken  thus  early  from  the  evil  to 
come.  Many  trials  and  afflictions  awaited  her 
surviving  family,  from  which  she  was  spared. 
A  darker  cloud  than  any  they  had  before  ex- 
perienced, began  now  to  lower  around  them. 
Migault  pursues  his  history  in  a  mournful 
strain:  "The  renewal  of  my  troubles  followed 
closely  the  death  of  my  wife.  I  never  enjoy- 
ed a  day's  peace  in  France  afterwards:" 

Only  twelve  days  after  this  event,  a  law 
was  published,  prohibiting  all  Protestant 
schoolmasters  from  receiving  boarders  at  their 
houses.  Under  other  circumstances,  intelli- 
gence like  this  would  have  been  painfully  felt. 
It  was,  in  fact,  a  death  blow  to  Migault's  pros- 
perity; but  his  mind  was  so  absorbed  by  grief 
for  the  heavy  loss  he  had  recently  sustained, 
that  he  heard  of  this  decree  with  perfect  in- 
difference. Guided  by  the  advice  of  his 
friend,  the  Protestant  minister,  who  kindly 
came  to  counsel  him  in  this  difficulty,  he 
placed  his  boarders  at  different  hotels,  and 
waited  to  receive  directions  from  the  parents, 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  83 

as  to  the  plan  it  was  their  wish  that  he  should 
adopt.  In  a  few  days  they  came  to  visit  their 
children,  and  were  so  well  pleased  with  his 
arrangements,  that  they  requested  him  to  con- 
tinue their  education  in  the  same  manner  as  if 
they  were  boarders.  Other  embarrassments 
afterwards  arose,  which  served  to  make  his 
path  thorny  and  difficult,  and  must  have  been 
the  more  painful  to  him  to  bear,  now  that  he 
could  no  longer  take  sweet  counsel  with  her 
who  had  been  the  sympathizing  sharer  of  his 
joys  and  his  sorrows  in  past  years. 

She  seems,  by  her  firmness  of  character,  to 
have  been  peculiarly  fitted  to  strengthen  his 
hands  in  the  day  of  calamity.  "  She  was  in- 
deed my  help-meet  upon  all  occasions,"  he 
says;  "  but  especially  while  the  fiercest  perse- 
cutions raged  around  us.  <  This  is  grievous 
to  be  borne,'  she  would  say;  <yet  why  should 
we  sorrow  as  those  without  hope?  Depend 
upon  it,  the  shield  of  the  Almighty  is  spread 
over  us,  and  nothing  can  happen  but  what  in 
mercy  is  designed  for  our  benefit:  though  we 
perceive  it  not  now,  yet  we  shall  hereafter. 
We  love  God,  and  God  will  not  abandon 


84  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

A  few  months  more  elapsed,  and  the  inha- 
bitants of  Mauze  heard  the  unwelcome  tid- 
ings, that  troops  were  in  full  march  for  the 
province  of  Poitou,  destined  to  complete  the 
ruin  of  those  Protestant  families  who  had  not 
fled  the  country  or  abjured,  during  the  former 
persecution.  Nearly  every  Protestant  church, 
throughout  the  kingdom,  was  now  either  des- 
troyed or  interdicted,  under  various  pretexts. 

The  church  of  Mauze  was  for  a  season 
singularly  protected  from  the  storm.  Her 
Serene  Highness,  the  Duchess  of  Lunenburg 
and  Zell,  herself  a  pious  Protestant,  was  the 
means  of  shielding  this  place  from  the  ravages 
which  laid  waste  so  many  other  Protestant 
districts.  Her  excellent  brother,  M.  d'Ol- 
breuze,  resided  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
with  him  and  the  Protestant  minister  of 
Mauze,  M.  de  la  Forest,  she  kept  up  a  regular 
correspondence.  Warned  by  these  friends,  of 
the  evils  which  threatened  them  from  time  to 
time,  she  made  every  effort  to  avert  the  blow, 
using  all  her  influence  with  the  court  of  France 
for  this  purpose,  and  even  interceding  with 
the  king  himself,  on  behalf  of  those  whose 
cause  she  so  warmly  espoused.  Mauz6,  thus 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  85 

favoured,  became  the  centre  of  attraction  to 
the  Protestants  of  Poitou  and  the  neighbour- 
ing provinces;  a  desired  haven  into  which  they 
crowded,  in  order  that  they  might  enjoy  the 
public  exercise  of  their  religion,  denied  them 
in  so  many  other  places.  On  Saturday  even- 
ing, the  town  became  crowded  to  excess.  The 
private  houses  of  the  Protestants,  the  hotels, 
and  even  the  town-hall,  were  often  filled  with 
persons  who  flocked  in,  from  various  places, 
to  pass  the  Sabbath  with  those  of  their  breth- 
ren who  were  assembled  there.  But,  notwith- 
standing the  powerful  interference  of  the 
duchess,  they  were  visited  by  many  vexatious 
and  harassing  circumstances,  against  which 
they  struggled,  until  the  fatal  decree  of  revo- 
cation fell  on  their  devoted  heads,  and  left 
the  Protestants  of  France  without  resource. 
"Migault  had  foreseen  this  stroke,  and  had 
been  induced  to  make  every  preparation  in 
his  power  for  the  event,  by  dismissing  his 
pupils,  and  sending  away  his  children  and 
his  mother-in-law  to  the  houses  of  different 
friends;  so  that  when  the  cavalry  entered 
Mauze,  on  the  23d ^of  September,  1685,  he 
was  without  any  of  his  family  near  him.  Two 
8 


86  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

or  three  persons,  who  were  making  their 
escape  from  some  neighbouring  place,  were  in 
conversation  with  him,  when  the  approach  of 
the  soldiers  gave  them  warning  to  fly,  and 
they  all  left  the  house  as  speedily  as  they 
could.  Migault  and  one  of  the  party  descend- 
ed into  the  moat  which  surrounded  the  town, 
(then  dry,)  and  took  the  road  to  Amilly,  meet- 
ing on  their  way  terrified  women  and  helpless 
children,  who,  like  themselves,  were  seeking 
safety  in  flight.  Late  in  the  evening,  they 
reached  the  chateau  de  Marsay,  where  they 
were  received  and  sheltered  for  two  days. 
From  thence  they  proceeded  to  the  house  of 
M.  de  Puyarnault,  near  St.  Jean  d'Angely, 
where  Migault  had  been  kindly  allowed  to 
send  three  of  his  children.  But  here  the 
fugitives  remained  only  a  few  days.  The 
government  had  begun  to  station  soldiers  in 
the  houses  of  gentlemen  suspected  of  favour- 
ing the  flight  of  the  Protestants,  and  M.  de 
Puyarnault  was  daily  expecting  to  have  them 
quartered  on  him.  He  was  advised  to  pre- 
pare for  their  arrival,  by  removing  all  valuable 
property  from  under  his  roof,  as  no  depend- 
ence could  be  placed  on  persons  who  usually 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  87 

acted  more  like  freebooters  and  banditti  than 
regular  troops.  Under  these  circumstances, 
Migault  felt  it  prudent  to  remove  his  children 
from  a  retreat  which  no  longer  promised 
safety.  Jane,  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  Peter 
nine,  he  could  make  the  companions  of  his 
melancholy  march;  but  what  could  he  do  with 
Mary,  a  delicate  little  girl  of  seven,  who  was 
unable  to  encounter  the  perils  of  their  flight? 

He  decided,  as  his  only  remaining  resource, 
to  send  her,  by  the  common  carrier,  (a  Pa- 
pist,) to  M.  de  PAleigne's,  where  she  might 
be  under  the  care  of  her  grandmother,  who 
had  been  received  there.  Having  adopted 
this  plan,  which,  perilous  as  it  was,  seemed 
the  only  one  left  him  to  pursue,  he  set  out 
with  Jane  and  Peter,  and  went  first  to  the 
house  of  M.  d'Olbreuze.  He  did  not  venture 
to  remain  more  than  a  few  hours  there,  be- 
lieving that  his  presence  would  endanger  the 
liyes  of  four  of  his  children,  who  were  already 
sheltered  under  that  friendly  roof.  Taking 
leave  of  these,  he  set  out  again  with  Jane  and 
Peter,  and  the  next  morning  reached  the  house 
of  a  friend,  to  whose  care  he  thought  they 
might  safely  be  confided.  Here  he  left  them, 


88  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

and  then  went  forth  again  to  hide  his  own 
head  where  he  could.  The  whole  month  of 
October  he  wandered  up  and  down  the  pro- 
vince, concealing  himself  during  the  day,  and 
taking  care  never  to  remain  more  than  forty- 
eight  hours  in  a  place.  So  completely  were 
the  paths  of  the  Protestants  beset  with  snares, 
that  it  seems  wonderful  any  should  have 
escaped.  The  cavalry  were  spread  about 
every  where;  and  the  hospitable  and  tender- 
hearted among  the  Catholics,  who  were 
thought  likely  to  receive  the  persecuted,  were 
daily  subject  to  domiciliary  visits.  It  was 
become  very  dangerous  to  give  even  tempo- 
rary shelter  to  the  fugitives,  so  that  their  near- 
est relatives  often  scarcely  dared  to  do  it.  At 
length,  after  a  month  of  painful  wanderings, 
Migault  returned,  in  the  night,  to  the  hospi- 
table mansion  of  M.  d'Olbreuze,  and  for  eight 
days  remained  hidden  in  his  grounds.  After 
this  comparatively  long  rest,  he  renewed  his 
lonely  wanderings,  seeking,  from  time  to  time, 
temporary  rest  at  the  houses  of  various  friends, 
where  he  gained  ready  admittance,  provided 
he  came  by  night  only,  and  was  careful  not  to 
be  seen  by  any  one  but  the  inhabitants  of  the 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  89 

dwelling.  Thus  the  month  of  November 
passed  wearily  away;  and  in  the  beginning  of 
December,  it  appeared  necessary  to  remove 
Jane  and  Peter  from  the  asylum  he  had  found 
for  them  in  October.  The  afflicted  father 
conducted  them,  first,  to  his  often-visited  place 
of  refuge,  the  house  of  M.  d'Olbreuze,  where 
they  lodged  one  night,  and  then  accompanied 
them  to  the  chateau  of  M.  de  Marsay,  which 
had  received  him  in  his  first  flight  from 
Mauze.  In  two  days,  however,  these  chil- 
dren were  returned  on  his  hands,  at  M.  d'Ol- 
breuze's,  to  which  place  he  had  gone  back, 
after  leaving  them  at  the  chateau  de  Marsay. 
Poor  man!  his  heart  seems  to  have  been  at 
this  time  sinking  within  him,  under  the  pres- 
sure of  accumulated  sufferings.  Indeed,  his 
situation,  as  he  himself  describes  it,  was  truly 
pitiable:  "Hunted  for  three  months,  from 
place  to  place,  like  a  noxious  animal,  by 
cavalry,  priests,  and  lay  Papists,  at  enmity 
with  me,  and  agitated  the  whole  time  with 
distressing  anxiety  for  my  poor  children." 
He  was  now  in  the  utmost  perplexity,  not 
knowing  where  to  hide  his  own  head,  or 


90  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

where  to  find  a  place  for  these  two  dear  mem- 
bers of  his  family. 

In  this  emergency,  a  Roman  Catholic  friend 
took  Jane  under  his  protection  for  eight  days; 
and  when  he  durst  keep  her  no  longer,  he 
complied  with  her  father's  earnest  entreaties, 
that  he  would  conduct  her  to  some  relatives, 
who  resided  at  Croizette,  near  Niort.  Here 
she  continued  a  fortnight,  and  would  have 
remained  longer,  had  not  some  person  given 
information  to  the  captain  of  a  troop  of  cavalry 
in  the  neighbourhood,  that  she  was  concealed 
in  the  house.  Two  dragoons  were  instantly 
despatched  to  search  for  her,  which  they  did 
with  great  insolence,  ransacking  every  place, 
destroying  furniture,  and  treating  the  owners 
of  the  house  with  violence.  The  terrified  girl 
fled  at  their  approach,  and  concealing  herself  in 
a  neighbouring  wood,  remained  there  in  safety 
during  the  night;  but  when  day  dawned,  fan- 
cying her  hiding-place  insecure,  she  stole  back 
to  the  court-yard,  and  concealed  herself  in  a 
heap  of  straw.  In  the  morning  the  soldiers 
renewed  their  search,  and  the  poor  girl  was 
discovered,  and  dragged,  with  brutal  harsh- 
ness before  the  Catholic  minister  of  the  parish. 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  91 

She  had  the  firmness  to  withstand  all  the 
menaces  and  arguments  which  were  used  ta 
induce  her  to  apostatize  from  her  faith.  The 
act  of  abjuration  was  placed  before  her  to  sign, 
and  violence  was  added  to  threats  to  force  her 
to  comply,  but  in  vain.  He  who  maketh  his 
strength  often  appear  the  most  manifest  in  the 
weakest  of  his  creatures,  gave  this  young  girl 
firmness  and  energy  suited  to  her  trial.  She 
remained  inflexible;  and  when  the  priest,  who, 
was  resolved  to  make  it  appear  that  he  had 
converted  her,  wrote  under  the  pretended  act, 
that  she  did  not  sign  it  because  she  could  not 
write,  she  undauntedly  protested  against  the 
falsehood,  and  declared  that  she  knew  very 
well  how  to  write,  but  refused  to  do  so  because 
she  was  firmly  resolved  never  to  renounce  her 
creed,  or  sign  her  name  to  an  act  of  abjuration. 
How  she  was  set  at  liberty  does  not  appear; 
but  two  days  after,  a  benevolent  man  had  the 
kindness  to  conduct  her  to  her  father,  at  M. 
d'Olbreuze's.  This  good  man's  house  seems, 
as  Migault  observes,  to  have  been  their  head- 
quarters; nor  was  this  the  only  party  that 
found  refuge  there.  All  who  asked,  received 
aid  as  long  as  it  was  possible  to  give  it.  Fugi- 


92  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

lives  from  different  provinces  were  received 
there:  they  needed  but  to  plead  their  misery 
to  gain  admittance.  It  was  enough  that  they 
were  objects  of  tyranny  and  oppression,  to 
insure  them  every  hospitable  attention.  Not 
only  the  chateau,  but  the  corn-lofts,  barns, 
and  out-houses,  were  filled  by  persons  of  all 
ranks,  from  Saintonge,  Aunix,  and  Poitou, 
who  were  generously  supplied  with  every 
thing  necessary  to  their  support  and  comfort. 
M.  and  Madame  de  PAleigne  manifested  the 
same  courageous  and  munificent  hospitality. 
Their  mansion  became  likewise  the  refuge  of 
the  distressed,  and  was  crowded  with  Pro- 
testants of  every  age  and  degree.  These  bene- 
volent persons  were  threatened  with  visits 
from  the  military,  but  they  still  persevered  in 
their  plans.  Their  high  station,  and  their 
connexion  with  the  Duchess  of  Brunswick, 
preserved  them  awhile  from  the  threatened 
interruption.  Of  all  the  residences  of  the 
Protestant  nobility  in  Aunix,  Poitou,  and 
Saintonge,  the  houses  of  M.  d'Olbreuze  and 
M.  de  1'Aleigne  alone  remained  unpillaged. 
At  length  the  blow  came,  and  no  obnoxious 
person  was  any  longer  left  unmolested.  The 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  93 

nobles  friendly  to  the  Protestant  cause,  were 
forced  to  fly,  or  risk  imprisonment  by  lettres 
du  petit-catchet.  In  November,  M.  de 
PAleigne  was  consigned,  by  one  of  these 
instruments,  to  the  common  gaol  at  Loches; 
and  in  December,  M.  d'Olbreuze  was  com- 
pelled, by  a  command  from  the  king,  to  repair 
to  Paris,  and  remain  in  attendance  at  court, 
until  further  orders.  Still  Migault  and  three 
of  his  children  were  suffered  to  remain  at  the 
chateau  with  Madame  d'Olbreuze,  where  they 
passed  for  domestics.  But  now  an  order  was 
issued,  forbidding  all  Protestants  to  have  any 
but  Roman  Catholic  servants;  and  Madame 
d'Olbreuze  and  Madame  de  PAleigne  were 
reluctantly  obliged  to  submit  to  this  regula- 
tion. Poor  Migault  knew  not  where  to  fly. 
In  addition  to  his  troubles,  Jane  was  returned 
to  him  from  Croizette;  John,  the  second  son, 
had  been  driven  from  his  retreat,  by  the  same 
decree  which  rendered  it  impossible  for  the 
others  to  remain  at  Madame  d'Olbreuze's,  and 
the  mother-in-law  and  little  Mary  had,  of 
course,  been  obliged  at  the  same  time,  to  quit 
Madame  de  PAleigne's. 

He  had  now  seven  of  his  children  unpro- 


94  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

vided  for,  and  himself  again  without  a  hiding- 
place.  He  acknowledges,  with  shame  and 
self-reproach,  the  afflicting  state  of  despon- 
dency into  which  he  was  thrown  by  these 
distressing  circumstances.  After  many  diffi- 
culties, in  seeking  such  temporary  shelter  as 
he  could  obtain  for  those  so  dear  to  him,  a  ray 
of  hope  again  dawned  upon  him,  and  he 
thought  he  saw  means  by  which  he  might 
send  his  two  sons,  John  and  Philemon,  out  of 
the  country,  embarking  them  at  Rochelle,  for 
Holland. 

For  this  purpose,  he  went  to  Rochelle. 
There  he  was  arrested,  taken  before  the  go- 
vernor, and  after  a  severe  examination,  was 
drawn  into  the  sinful  act  of  compliance  he  had 
so  long  withstood,  and  signed  the  act  of  abju- 
ration. We  know  not  what  arts  of  refined 
cruelty  were  exercised,  to  urge  this  firm  and 
sincere  Protestant  into  the  snare  in  which  so 
many  had  been  entangled;  for, -at  this  part  of 
his  narrative,  four  pages  in  the  original  manu- 
script are  torn  out,  leaving  one  of  the  most 
interesting  scenes  of  his  life  a  blank.  It  only 
appears  that  he  signed  the  formal  renunciation 
of  his  faith,  and  was  then  set  at  liberty.  But 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  95 

the  freedom  thus  gained  was  felt  to  be  dearly 
earned.  Oppressed  with  the  anguish  of  a 
wounded  spirit,  he  went  forth  to  encounter 
the  ills  of  life,  with  feelings  such  as  had  never 
before  weighed  down  his  heart.  The  state  of 
his  mind,  under  these  circumstances,  is  best 
described  in  his  own  words,  as  he  addresses 
them  to  his  chidren,  commencing  with  a 
prayer  to  that  gracious  God,  against  whom  he 
had  so  deeply  sinned:  "Notwithstanding  the 
heinousness  of  our  transgressions,  thou  hast 
promised,  0  Heavenly  Father,  to  have  mercy 
upon  us,  and  abundantly  to  pardon.  I  indulge 
the  humble  and  confident  hope,  that  thou 
despisest  not  my  broken  and  contrite  heart. 
Thou  wilt  thoroughly  wash  me  from  my  ini- 
quity, and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin. 

"  Upon  leaving  the  prison,  I  was  conducted 
by  an  officer  to  the  convent  of  Oratory;  and 
there  it  was  I  basely  put  my  hand  to  a  paper 
which  they  presented  for  my  signature.  I 
did  not  read  it,  but  could  entertain  no  doubt 
of  its  purport.  The  fears  for  my  own  safety, 
and  apprehensions  about  my  family,  that  agi- 
tated my  mind,  suggested  plausible  reasons 
why  I  might  innocently  sign:  but  no  sooner 


96  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

did  my  guards  disappear,  and  I  regain  my 
liberty,  than  I  despised  the  sophistry  by 
which  I  had  been  betrayed,  and  contemplated 
my  sin  in  all  its  blackness  and  deformity. 
One  of  my  friends,  whom  I  met  on  quitting 
the  town,  observing  the  distraction  of  my 
mind,  persuaded  me  to  accompany  him  to  his 
house.  He  endeavoured  to  allay  the  agitation 
of  my  spirits,  pointing  out  those  passages  of 
scripture  from  which  I  might  derive  comfort. 
I  left  him  the  same  afternoon,  intending,  by 
walking  all  night,  to  arrive  at  Mauze,  the 
next  morning. 

"  I  can  but  faintly  describe  the  shame  and 
sorrow  I  endured  while  at  Mauz6.  I  endea- 
voured to  pray,  but  could  not  give  utterance 
to  the  feelings  by  which  I  was  oppressed.  It 
pleased  God  to  hide  the  light  of  his  counte- 
nance, and  I  seemed  abandoned  to  my  own 
reflections,  which  had  nigh  driven  me  to  des- 
pair. The  congratulations  of  my  friends,  on 
my  release  from  prison,  increased  the  poig- 
nancy of  my  remorse:  their  kind  expressions 
were  so  many  blows  upon  my  heart:  they 
produced  the  effect  of  the  keenest  reproach^ 
es;  and  it  appeared  to  me  that  no  criminal 


JEAN   MIGAULT.  97 

was  ever  before  tormented  by  so  many  accu- 
sers. 

"  I  could  not  avoid  calling  upon  Madame 
d'Olbreuze,  my  kind  benefactress;  but  it  was 
long  before  I  summoned  sufficient  resolution. 
That  lady,  I  knew,  received  with  tenderness 
many  persons  in  my  unhappy  predicament; 
yet  there  was  no  one  of  whom  this  faithful 
disciple  of  Christ  entertained  a  more  favoura- 
ble opinion,  and  who  had  so  bitterly  disap- 
pointed her  expectations.  At  length,  I  soli- 
cited permission  to  pay  my  respects,  and  it 
was  immediately  granted. 

"  On  entering  the  room,  I  found  Madame 
d'Olbreuze  surrounded  by  several  unmarried 
ladies,  who  some  weeks  before  had  placed 
themselves  under  her  protection.  Oh!  my 
children,  guard  against  the  first  approaches  of 
sin;  and  may  you  never  have  cause  to  stand 
abashed  and  confounded  in  the  presence  of 
your  fellow-mortals,  in  the  same  manner  as 
your  poor  father  did  upon  this  distressing 
occasion.  For  a  considerable  time  I  was  mo- 
tionless; my  heart  beat  violently,  and  I  was 
happily  relieved  by  a  flood  of  tears.  Nothing 
could  be  more  kind  and  considerate  than  the 
9 


98  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

language  of  this  little  company  of  Christians. 
They  dilated  indeed  upon  the  enormity  of  my 
sin,  but  encouraged  me  to  hope  for  pardon: 
they  adduced  the  instances  of  Peter  who 
denied,  and  of  the  disciples  who  abandoned 
the  Saviour;  my  repentance  appeared  as  deep 
as  theirs,  and  they  doubted  not  my  forgiveness 
was  as  complete. 

"  I  hope  always  to  retain  a  grateful  recol- 
lection of  the  behaviour  of  these  ladies.  One 
of  them  composed  a  prayer  suited  to  my  case, 
a  copy  of  which  I  have  preserved.  I  distri- 
buted this  prayer  among  many  Protestants, 
who  were  deploring  the  same  guilt  as  myself, 
and  there  is  reason  to  believe  it  was  eminently 
blessed. 

"  I  was  rescued,  by  the  tender  mercy  of  my 
God,  from  the  frightful  dangers  into  which 
my  folly  had  precipitated  me;  and  was  con- 
soled for  all  my  sufferings,  when  I  found  that 
nine  of  you,  my  dear  children,  remained  faith- 
ful to  his  word,  and  appeared  devoted  to  his 
service." 

After  these  events,  nearly  a  year  seems  to 
have  elapsed,  marked  by  many  distressing  cir- 
cumstances: not  the  least  afflicting,  was  the 


JEAN   MIGAULT.  99 

bad  conduct  of  John  Migault.  the  second  son, 
who  was  a  source  of  great  uneasiness  to  his 
father.  The  rest  of  his  children  seem  to  have 
been  particularly  dutiful,  and  well  conducted. 
During  this  period,  Migault  had  the  comfort 
of  hearing  that  three  of  his  sons,  James, 
Gabriel,  and  Philemon,  had  been  able  to  fol- 
low in  the  train  of  families  of  their  friends, 
and  make  their  escape  from  a  country  where 
nothing  but  sorrow  and  oppression  seemed  to 
await  them.  James  was  at  Amsterdam,  Ga- 
briel and  Philemon  in  Germany;  the  former 
with  M.  de  la  Forest,  the  latter  with  M.  and 
Madame  d'Olbreuze,  who  had  obtained  the 
king's  permission  to  quit  the  kingdom,  and 
generously  offered  to  take  Philemon  with 
them,  and  make  his  welfare  their  peculiar 
care. 

John,  the  sad  source  of  anguish  to  his  father, 
had  also  left  the  kingdom,  and  was  gone  to 
the  West  Indies;  and  his  neglect  of  his  only 
parent,  to  whom  he  had  not  once  written 
since  his  departure,  seemed  to  weigh  heavily 
on  his  father's  heart.  Still  his  cares  were  sen- 
sibly lessened,  by  the  knowledge  that  four  of 
his  children  were  beyond  the  reach  of  perse- 


100  JEAN   MIGAULT. 

cution;  and  he  now  began,  once  more,  to 
devise  plans  for  removing  the  rest  of  his 
family  to  Holland.  Towards  the  close  of 
1687,  after  many  disappointments,,  he  found 
means  to  engage  a  passage  for  himself  and 
his  children,  in  a  vessel  about  to  sail  from 
Rochelle.  His  family,  however,  was  then  at 
Grand  Breuil,  where  it  appears  the  benevo- 
lent Madame  de  la  Bessiere  still  ventured  to 
receive  them.  The  perplexity  he  now  had  to 
encounter,  arose  from  the  difficulty  there  was 
in  conveying  his  family  to  Rochelle  without 
observation.  After  hiring  one  carriage,  in 
readiness  for  the  nocturnal  journey,  and  pay- 
ing the  voiturier  a  high  price  in  advance,  the 
man  failed  him,  and  never  made  his  appear- 
ance. After  much  trouble,  he  succeeded  in 
engaging  another  conveyance,  at  an  enormous 
price;  and  in  the  middle  of  a  bitterly  cold 
December  night,  he  commenced  his  perilous 
journey  with  his  children.  In  quitting  Grand 
Breuil,  they  had  the  affliction  of  parting  from 
their  excellent  grandmother,  who  though  full 
of  grief  at  the  thought  of  being  separated  from 
these,  the  dearest  objects  on  earth,  had  not 
courage,  at  her  age,  to  emigrate  with  them,  as 


JEAN   MIGAULT.  101 

Migault  had  earnestly  .entreated  ;her  to  do. 
After  a  night  of  dangers',  they  reached  d'Am- 
pierre,  where  they  «Jo,d^d,  jThe  next  uay 
they  providentially  found  an  asylum  at  La 
Bugaudiere,  two  miles  from  Rochelle,  in  the 
house  of  a  remote  relative,  who,  unknown  to 
them,  had  removed  to  that  place  some  time 
before.  He  generously  received  the  youthful 
party,  and  retained  them  under  his  protection 
till  the  middle  of  January,  when  the  wind, 
which  had  been  all  this  time  unfavourable, 
changed  to  a  good  quarter,  and  the  16th  of  the 
month  was  fixed  as  the  day  of  embarkation. 

The  place  appointed  for  rendezvous,  was  a 
small  house  on  the  beach,  near  the  noble  man- 
sion of  Pampin,  and  a  league  distant  from 
Rochelle.  Here  the  captain  agreed  to  take  in 
the  passengers  under  shelter  of  the  darkness. 
It  was  not  without  danger  and  difficulty  that 
the  various  parties  found  their  way  to  the  spot 
during  the  night.  A  few,  indeed,  lost  their 
way,  and  did  not  arrive  till  too  late;  but 
seventy-five  people  were  assembled,  awaiting 
with  impatience  the  moment  of  embarkation. 
The  generous-minded  man  who  had  been  the 
principal  means  of  making  all  these  arrange- 
9* 


102  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

ments  for  vhe-pcvor  fugitives,  came  to  meet 
them,  and  superintend  the  midnight  embarka- 
tion. II?  suggested,  that  they  should  agree 
to  enter  the  boat  in  rotation,  according  to  the 
lot  drawn  by  each  family,  and  then  it  might 
be  regularly  filled,  without  being  over  laden, 
and  no  confusion  would  arise  to  embarrass 
their  movements,  or  retard  their  departure. 

Hitherto  all  had  gone  on  favourably.  Mi- 
gault  and  Jiis  children,  with  some  others, 
waited  in  the  house,  and  the  rest  of  the  emi- 
grants on  the  beach,  for  the  arrival  of  the  boat; 
when  suddenly  loud  cries  were  heard.  At 
first  the  sounds  were  thought  to  proceed  from 
the  sailors,  for  whose  presence  they  were  so 
anxious;  and  then  they  were  filled  with  con- 
sternation, under  the  apprehension  that  it  was 
the  military  coming  down  on  them.  Incredi- 
ble as  it  may  appear  under  such  appalling  cir- 
cumstances, it  afterwards  proved  to  be  a  mere 
idle  frolic,  played  off  by  some  who  were 
waiting  to  embark.  The  cries  were  meant  to 
imitate  soldiers  seizing  on  objects  of  pursuit; 
and  the  name  of  the  generous  superintendent 
of  the  embarkation  was  repeatedly  vocifera- 
ted. The  penalty  of  death  had,  by  a  recent 


JEAN   MIGAULT.  103 

decree,  been  fixed  as  the  punishment  of  those 
who  aided  the  escape  of  the  Protestants:  this 
good  man,  therefore,  might  well  partake  in 
the  panic  which  began  to  spread:  hastening 
to  the  house,  he  exclaimed,  "  The  guards 
are  on  the  beach,  save  yourselves,"  and  then 
fled.  Some  followed  him  in  his  flight,  but 
the  greater  proportion  remained  behind;  for 
the  authors  of  the  frolic,  seeing  the  mischief 
they  had  done,  hastened  to  assure,  those  who 
had  taken  the  alarm,  that  it  was  unfounded. 
They  succeeded  in  quieting  the  fears  of  those 
around  them:  but,  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  it  was  impossible  to  trace  the  steps  of 
their  benefactor  and  those  who  had  followed 
him.  In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  arri- 
val of  the  boat  was  announced:  every  one 
hastened  to  embark;  and  their  kind  superin- 
tendent not  being  there  to  regulate  their  plans, 
the  greatest  confusion  prevailed.  Through 
the  obscurity  of  the  night,  Migault  and  his 
party,  including  a  Mademoiselle  de  Choisy, 
whom  he  had  under  his  care,  lost  their  way, 
and  did  not  reach  the  boat  until  it  was  just 
putting  to  sea,  with  thirty-five  persons  in  it. 
The  remainder  were  therefore  obliged  to  wait 


104  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

for  another  trip.  Oppressed  with  anxiety, 
fatigue,  and  cold,  they  kept  a  painful  watch, 
during  the  long  interval  which  elapsed  before 
the  boat  returned;  and  when  it  came,  it 
brought  no  hope  for  Migault's  party;  for,  in- 
stead of  touching  at  the  same  part  of  the  shore 
as  before,  it  was  taken  to  a  creek,  a  hundred 
and  fifty  yards  distant  from  the  rock  on  which 
they  had  remained  stationed  from  the  time  it 
went  off  with  the  first  party.  The  moment 
the  cries  of  the  sailors  were  heard,  every  per- 
son hastened  to  the  spot  whence  the  voices 
proceeded.  The  most  active  and  least  encum- 
bered, especially  those  who  had  none  but 
themselves  to  care  for,  gained  the  boat  first; 
and  when  twenty-five  had  entered,  the  mari- 
ners pushed  off,  declaring  they  would  take  no 
more,  as  they  were  nearly  swamped  by  their 
load  the  first  time,  but  they  would  return  a 
third  time  and  take  the  remainder.  Alas!  it 
soon  became  evident  to  those  now  left  behind, 
that  their  passage  was  lost.  Day  dawned  be- 
fore the  boat  could  well  have  reached  the  ves- 
sel, and  the  dispirited  group  discerned  two 
launches  belonging  to  the  guard-boats  of  Ro- 
chelle,  which  had  been  established  since  the 


JEAN  MJGAULT.  105 

revocation,  to  frustrate  if  possible,  all  plans  for 
emigration  in  that  port.  The  kind  friend  to 
whom  the  refugees  were  so  much  indebted, 
had  employed  persons  to  inspect  a  long  line 
of  coast,  and  observe  if  any  part  was  left  un- 
guarded. That  part  appointed  for  the  place 
of  embarkation  was  alone  found  free;  and  had 
the  return  of  the  boat  for  the  second  party 
been  deferred  one  half  hour,  that  too  would 
have  been  blocked  up.  Thus  was  a  merciful 
providence  manifested  in  favour  of  those  who 
escaped  during  that  eventful  night,  from  a 
land  where  persecution  had  left  them  no  rest- 
ing-place. How  keenly  the  disappointment 
was  felt  by  those  who  failed  in  the  attempt, 
and  with  what  Christian  patience  it  was  borne, 
Migault's  own  words  will  show:  "  Our  situa- 
tion," he  observes,  "  was  become  very  awful. 
As  we  saw  guards  at  sea,  so  we  might  reason- 
ably expect  to  meet  with  guards  on  land.  The 
trepidation  that  seized  the  whole  party  was 
excessive.  We  knew  the  unbending  severity 
of  the  governor  of  Rochelle,  and  many  fancied 
themselves  already  in  his  power.  My  dan- 
ger was,  beyond  all  comparison,  the  most  im- 
minent. My  companions  were  unmarried, 


106  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

and  could  easily  disperse,  or  conceal  them- 
selves, according  to  circumstances:  but  I  had 
six  children,  whom  I  could  not  abandon,  and 
three  of  them  incapable  of  walking.  The 
house  of  our  benevolent  host,  at  La  Bugau- 
diere,  was  the  only  one  I  could  venture  to 
enter,  and  it  could  be  reached  only  by  passing 
under  the  walls  of  Rochelle.  Nor  was  I  by 
any  means  certain  that  my  horse  was  now  in 
a  condition  to  travel;  the  poor  animal  having 
remained  the  whole  of  this  dreadful  night  on 
the  shingles,  apparently  without  sense  or  mo- 
tion. I  believe  I  may  say,  that  at  no  period 
of  my  life  was  my  faith  in  more  active  exer- 
cise. Many  precious  promises  presented 
themselves  to  my  mind;  some  of  which, 
though  they  then  appeared  familiar  to  my 
memory,  had  not  before  formed  the  subject  of 
my  contemplation.  One  passage  wonderfully 
supported  me: '  The  angel  of  the  Lord  encamp- 
eth  round  about  them  that  fear  him,  and  deliv- 
ereth  them.'  I  so  meditated  on  these  words, 
that  my  fears  were  completely  overcome.  I 
shall  certainly  be  delivered  I  said,  and  it  mat- 
ters not  therefore,  in  what  way.  My  Heavenly 
Father  knows  the  mode  which  is  best  suited  to 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  107 

my  individual  case.  Whether  I  escape  from 
the  hands  of  the  governor  of  Rochelle,  or  fall 
into  his  power,  I  shall  be  equally  delivered  in 
God's  good  time.  I  will  not  agitate  myself 
with  sinful  fears:  while-  1  employ  every  faculty 
of  body  and  mind  to  avoid  molestation,  I  will 
cast  all  my  cares  upon 


*  The  simplicity  with  which  Migault  tells  the  story  of 
his  life,  and  makes  confession  of  his  errors,  is  touchingly 
exhibited  in  a  little  anecdote  he  introduces  at  this  part  of 
his  history,  and  on  which  he  comments  with  equal  piety 
and  good  sense. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  pass  unnoticed  a  little  anecdote  that 
you  have  heard  me  relate.  When  we  were  leaving  La 
Bugaudiere,  little  Oliver,  in  his  insinuating  and  affection- 
ate manner,  asked  :  '  Where  are  we  going  papa  ?'  My 
heart  was  full,  and  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  any  explana- 
tion, I  said  :  "  We  are  going  to  our  house  at  Moulle,  my 
child.'  In  the  morning,  the  little  fellow  finding  himself 
on  the  beach,  surrounded  by  the  sea  and  rocks,  said: 

*  Are  we  in  our  house,  papa  ?'  '  Yes,'  I  hastily  answered. 

*  Then  our  house  has  tumbled  down  papa  ?'    I  attach  no 
other  importance  to  this  anecdote  than  the  evil  effects 
which  the  untruths  I  unguardedly  uttered  might  produce 
on  my  children,  if  I  did  not  solemnly  express  sorrow  for 
having  departed,  upon  this  occasion,  from  those  rigid  and 
universal  rules  of  veracity  that  ought  to  govern  every 
head  of  a  family.    The  world  are  not  generally  aware  how 
imperceptibly  the  character  of  a  child  is  formed.     The 


108  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

Migault  was  told,  that  among  those  who 
had  obtained  seats  in  the  first  boat,  was 
Madame  de  Choisy.  Mademoiselle  de  Choisy, 
therefore,  who  had  been  separated  from  her 
mother  during  the  confusion  occasioned  by 
the  false  alarm  before  mentioned,  now  believ- 
ed that  they  were  parted  without  any  hope  of 
meeting  again,  and  was  in  a  state  of  the  great- 
est distress.  The  good  Migault  could  only 
promise  to  take  charge  of  her,  and  lend  her 
what  help  he  could.  The  mournful  party 
now  turned  away  from  the  beach,  accompa- 
nied by  the  faithful  Dillot,  who  was  always  in 
attendance  on>them,  and  gave  them  all  the  as- 
sistance in  his  power.  They  were  soon  met 
by  a  person,  who  came  in  search  of  Made- 
moiselle de  Choisy.  Her  mother  had  not 
embarked,  but  was  in  vain  seeking  for  her 

minute  incidents  that  constitute  the  history  of  infancy, 
may  be  pregnant  with  important  consequences  on  the 
future  life :  and  if  we  could  always  trace  effects  to  their 
causes,  I  doubt  not,  it  would  be  found  that  the  moral  tur- 
pitude of  mankind  frequently  grows  out  of  such  aberra- 
tions from  truth,  as  in  the  instance  under  review,  on  the 
part  of  parents,  whom  children  have  been  accustomed  to 
venerate,  and  by  whose  example  they  have  regulated  their 
own  conduct." 


JEAN  MIGAULT.  109 

daughter,  and  almost  distracted  with  the  idea 
that,  in  the  confusion,  she  might  have  gone  on 
board  and  sailed,  not  only  without  her  mother, 
but  without  any  other  protector.  Nor  was  this 
fear  unreasonable;  for  as  the  embarkations  al- 
ways took  place  in  the  night,  such  circumstan- 
ces were  often  occurring.  Wives  were  separa- 
ted from  husbands,  and  parents  from  children, 
frequently  to  meet  no  more;  those  who  were 
left  behind  too  often  falling  into  the  hands  of 
their  enemies,  and  either  losing  their  lives,  or 
languishing  for  years  in  prison. 

Migault  resigned  the  charge  of  this  young 
lady,  and  proceeded  with  his  own  children  to 
LaBugaudiere,  where  they  were  again  hospi- 
tably received.  They  felt  very  thankful,  that 
though  they  had  failed  to  effect  their  much 
desired  departure,  they  had  been  permitted  to 
return  to  their  hiding-place  without  any  dis- 
covery of  their  frustrated  plans.  The  whole 
party  were  so  happy  as  to  retire  from  the 
place  of  rendezvous  without  attracting  any 
attention. 

The  next  day  Migault  went  to  Rochelle, 
and  found  Mademoiselle  de  Choisy  safely 
returned  to  her  mother.  He  records  the  fol- 
10 


HO  JEAN  MIGAULT. 

lowing  pleasing  notice  of  the  evening  he  pass- 
ed at  Madame  de  Choisy's,  with  several,  who, 
like  himself,  had  been  obliged  to  return  disap- 
pointed from  the  water-side.  "  We  spent  a 
delightful  evening.  Of  course  every  one  talked 
of  his  own  particular  adventure.  I  may  safely 
assert,  that  there  was  not  that  evening,  through- 
out France,  a  happier  fire-side.  Certainly  it 
could  not  have  been  found  in  the  king's  pa- 
lace, nor  in  the  houses  of  those  who  were 
accessary  to  this  horrible  persecution.  No 
one  appeared  mortified  or  disappointed;  on 
the  contrary,  it  was  universally  felt,  that  there 
was  abundant  cause  for  thankfulness  and  praise. 
Every  heart  seemed  turned  unto  God,  as  the 
heart  of  one  man.  We  could  not,  indeed, 
deny  the  dangers  incurred,  and  the  sufferings 
endured;  but  the  remembrance  of  them  only 
increased  our  gratitude  and  love  to  Him  to 
whom  alone  we  owed  our  deliverance.  The 
evening  was  employed  in  serious  conversation 
and  fervent  prayer.  We  considered  that  the 
Almighty  had  given  us  an  earnest  of  his  spe- 
cial providence;  and  feeling  that  he  was  on 
our  side,  and  that  we  ought  not,  therefore,  to 
fear  what  man  can  do  unto  us,  we  determined 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  HI 

to  persevere  in  our  efforts  to  abandon  our 
unhappy  country. " 

Disappointment  received  in  this  spirit  must 
have  been  a  blessing.  No  affliction  "  for  the 
present  seemeth  joyous,  but  grievous;  never- 
theless, afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable 
fruits  of  righteousness,  to  them  which  are 
exercised  thereby." 

It  was  not  until  April,  that  Migault' s  un- 
wearied endeavours  to  escape,  with  his  family, 
were  crowned  with  success.  He  then,  through 
the  same  kind  friend  who  had  assisted  him 
before,  found  means  to  make  the  needful 
arrangements,  and  once  more  prepared  to  de- 
part. One  child,  his  beloved  and  excellent 
Jane,  he  was  under-  the  necessity  of  leaving 
behind,  though  with  a  strong  confidence  that 
she  would  be  soon  permitted  to  follow  them. 
The  rest  assembled,  with  him  and  other  emi- 
grants, at  their  former  rendezvous,  the  cha- 
teau of  Pampin.  They  had  been  obliged  to 
come  in  two  parties,  and  an  intelligent  lad 
had  undertaken  to  be  the  guide  of  Anne 
Migault,  (the  eldest  daughter,)  and  the  chil- 
dren left  under  her  charge.  He  conducted 
them  safely  to  a  place  near  the  house,  where 


112  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

they  waited  till  Migault  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  arrived.  Then,  instead  of  parting  from 
them,  the  young  guide  besought  them  to  allow 
him  to  bear  them  company  to  a  foreign  shore. 
"  I  entreat  you,  sir,"  he  said,  "  to  take  me 
along  with  you.  If  you  will  pay  my  passage, 
I  shall  be  no  further  charge.  I  have  long 
been  agitated  by  the  desire  to  escape  into  any 
country,  where  I  may  worship  God  in  spirit 
and  in  truth;  but  I  did  not  dare  to  inform  my 
father  and  mother  of  the  wish.  Oh!  do,  pray 
sir,  take  me  with  you.  It  is  promised,  '  Seek 
ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righte- 
ousness, and  all  other  things  shall  be  given.' 
Now,  sir,  I  am  not  afraid  but  that  the  Al- 
mighty will  provide  for  me,  because  it  is  in 
search  of  his  kingdom  and  righteousness  I  am 
going  abroad.  I  wish  to  sit  under  the  minis- 
try of  such  men  as  M.  Perault" 

The  earnest  entreaties  of  this  poor  lad  were 
not  poured  into  ears  unheedful  of  such  plead- 
ings; and  he  was  promised,  that  if  the  boat 
which  was  to  convey  them  to  the  vessel  was 
sufficiently  large  to  admit  him  in  addition,  his 
wish  should  be  granted. 

The  whole  of  the  company  soon  arrived, 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  113 

and  in  good  time  effected  their  embarkation, 
without  interruption.  This  happy  deliverance 
occurred  on  Easier  Monday,  1688;  a  day  of 
rejoicing  indeed  to  these  poor  afflicted  people. 
Their  passage  was  long  and  tempestuous;  and 
it  was  not  until  the  nineteenth  day  after  they 
sailed,  that  the  vessel  reached  Brille,  in  Hol- 
land. From  thence  they  went  to  Rotterdam; 
and  the  next  day,  being  Sunday,  they  all 
repaired,  with  hearts  overflowing  with  grati- 
tude, to  the  French  church  in  that  place. 
There  they  united  in  offering  up  devout 
praises  for  their  deliverance,  and  listened, 
with  elevated  and  solemn  feelings,  to  the  word 
of  instruction,  preached  by  M.  Jurieu. 

The  Wednesday  following,  they  again  at- 
tended divine  service;  and  after  hearing  an 
appropriate  discourse  from  M.  Gilbert,  those 
among  them  who  had  been  induced  to  sign 
acts  of  abjuration,  made  public  confession  of 
their  sin  in  this  matter,  in  the  presence  of  that 
God  against  whom  they  had  so  deeply  sinned, 
and  before  the  whole  church. 

Thus  was  the  era  of  their  deliverance  fitly 
marked,  by  a  spirit  of  prayer  and  praise — a 
spirit  of  humble  contrition  and  rejoicing  grati- 
10* 


114  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

tude,  to  Him  who  had  delivered  them  from 
going  down  to  the  pit,  and  who  had  truly 
"brought  them  out  of  the  miry  clay,"  and 
"  set  their  feet  upon  a  rock,  and  put  a  new 
song  into  their  mouth,  even  praises  unto  our 
God." 

In  a  few  weeks  Migault  was  settled  at  Am- 
sterdam. His  beloved  Jane  had  joined  the 
party  after  a  prosperous  voyage,  and  many 
favourable  circumstances  marked  his  lot.  The 
good  man  thus  closes  his  narrative:  "I  have 
now  been  seventeen  months  in  Holland,  sur- 
rounded by  the  major  part  of  my  family,  and 
in  the  enjoyment  of  every  spiritual  blessing. 
I  might  safely  add,  that  every  temporal  bless- 
ing was  also  vouchsafed  to  me,  if  your  brother 
were  reclaimed,  and  your  grandmother  under 
our  roof.  Gabriel  pursues  his  vacation  with 
industry  and  profit;  and  the  amiable  character 
of  Philemon,  has  obtained  the  approbation, 
and  secured  the  patronage  of  M.  and  Madame 
d'Olbreuze.  Oh!  my  beloved  children,  join 
me  in  endless  praises  to  the  gracious  Being 
who  has  thus  crowned  us  with  loving  kind- 
ness and  tender  mercy  The  love  of  God  is, 
you  know,  generally  the  theme  of  our  conver- 


JEAN    MIGAULT.  115 

sation,  and  I  wish  it  to  be  one  of  the  promi- 
nent subjects  of  my  narrative.  It  is  the  best 
and  most  important,  concerning  which  the 
thoughts  of  an  intellectual  creature  can  be 
exercised.  Other  gifts  and  graces,  whether 
intellectual  or  moral,  come  indeed  from  hea- 
ven, but  they  often  leave  us  upon  earth.  Love 
alone  elevates  us  thither,  and  is  able  to  unite 
us  to  God." 

Such  are  the  annals  of  one  persecuted 
family.  They  contain  none  of  those  details  of 
horrible  and  excessive  cruelty,  in  which  the 
records  of  a  persecuting  age  abound:  but  per- 
secution, under  its  mildest  aspect,  is  sufficiently 
revolting.  This  simple  narrative  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  one  individual  and  his  family,  which 
enables  us  to  trace  their  steps  from  day  to 
day,  and  to  watch  the  progress  of  their  sor- 
rows, will,  perhaps,  give  us  a  more  lively 
sense  of  the  troubles  of  the  persecuted,  than 
many  of  the  more  appalling,  but  less  detailed 
histories  of  the  times.  The  original  manu- 
script of  Migault's  memoir,  was  found,  a  few 
years  ago,  in  the  possession  of  a  poor  inhabi- 
tant of  Spitalfields,  a  lineal  descendant  of  the 
writer.  This  man,  in  the  course  of  conversa- 


116  JEAN    MIGAULT. 

tion  with  a  member  of  the  Spitalfields  Bene- 
volent Society,  happened  to  mention  that  his 
family  had  been  compelled  to  emigrate  to  a 
foreign  country,  by  the  Revocation  of  the 
Edict  of  Nantes,  and  produced  this  manuscript 
as  a  proof  of  the  correctness  of  his  statement. 
A  circumstance  which  has  been  so  often 
feigned,  to  give  additional  interest  to  some 
fictitious  narrative,  has,  in  this  case,  really 
occurred;  and  a  manuscript  which  had  rested 
a  century  in  the  recesses  of  the  family  cabinet, 
has  been  at  length  brought  to  light  by  some 
passing  event,  and  presented  to  the  notice  of 
the  public. 


117 


M.  LE  FEVRE, 

THE    PRISONER    OF   THE    GALLEYS. 

WE  have  spoken  of  the  frequent  condemnation 
of  the  Protestants  to  the  galleys.  This  was.  a 
most  afflicting  lot,  in  which  much  was  added 
to  the  usual  miseries  of  captivity.  The  blas- 
phemies of  the  degraded  beings  by  whom 
these  good  men  were  surrounded,  was  far  from 
being  the  lightest  of  the  evils  they  had  to 
endure.  The  prophet  Ezekiel's  magnificent 
description  of  the  navy  of  Tyre,  comes  before 
us  in  fearful  contrast  to  the  horrors  of  these 
galley-fleets,  as  described  by  an  eye-witness. 
(See  Appendix,  Note  2.)  The  "benches  of 
ivory  from  the  isles  of  Chittim,"  the  "  sails  of 
fine  linen  with  broidered  work  from  Egypt," 
and  all  the  luxurious  appointments  of  Tyre,  in 
her  glory,  were  not  there;  but  it  might  be 
truly  said  of  them,  as  of  Tyre,  in  the  day  of 
her  calamity:  "All  they  that  handle  the  oar 
shall  cry  bitterly;" — "they  shall  make  them- 


118  M.  LE  FEVRE,  THE 

selves  bald,  and  gird  themselves  with  sack- 
cloth, and  weep  with  bitterness  of  heart,  and 
bitter  wailing."  Ezek.  xxvii.  31,  &c. 

One  of  the  most  touching  details  of  the  suf- 
ferings of  those  who  have  been  condemned  to 
the  galleys,  is  to  be  found  in  the  memoirs 
drawn  up  of  the  life  and  death  of  M.  Le  Fe- 
vre.  A  counsellor  by  profession,  well  con- 
nected, and  possessed  of  almost  every  thing 
which  could  make  life  pleasant  to  him,  he  was 
arrested  in  his  thirty-seventh  year,  on  account 
of  his  religion;  and  bore,  for  sixteen  years, 
the  hard  yoke  of  a  cruel  bondage,  with  unre- 
pining  submission  to  the  will  of  God;  taking 
joyfully  his  sufferings,  and  after  the  manner  of 
the  apostle,  "rejoicing  in  hope,  patient  in  tri- 
bulation, continuing  instant  in  prayer."  It  is 
from  his  letters  to  various  friends  that  the 
materials  of  this  narrative  will  be  chiefly 
drawn.  It  appears  that  he  was  born  at  Chatel 
Chinon,  in  Nivernois,  of  honourable  parents, 
and  one  of  the  most  considerable  families  in 
that  province.  The  pious  and  affectionate 
strain  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  departed 
parents,  interests  us  in  his  favour.  It  is  thus 
he  writes  to  one  of  his  friends: 


PRISONER  OP  THE  GALLEYS.  U9 

"  The  great  God  hath  been  mindful  of  his 
promises  in  favour  of  the  children  of  those 
that  fear  him.  My  father  and  mother  were  of 
the  number;  and  having  Walked  before  him  in 
Christian  simplicity,  died  both  in  a  good  old 
age,  in  communion  with  the  true  church. 
My  mother,  God  took  to  himself  by  times; 
but  I  know  her  piety  was  exemplary,  and  her 
life  edifying.  You  know  what  was  the  pro- 
bity, the  zeal,  and  the  patience  of  my  deceased 
father.  I  cannot  mention  him  without  emo- 
tion; but  his  memory  is  too  dear  to  me  to  pass 
it  over  in  silence.  You  visited  him  on  his 
death-bed,  or  rather  on  his  bed  of  life;  and  I 
remember  that,  on  coming  away,  you  gave 
this  testimony:  1 1  came  to  edify  and  comfort 
a  sick  person,  but  he  has  edified  and  comforted 
me/  Such  you  saw  him  then,  and  such  he 
was  through  the  whole  course  of  his  sickness, 
which  was  very  long,  and  very  severe.  Re- 
signed, patient,  and  always  willing  to  give  up 
his  soul  into  the  hands  of  his  God.  He  was 
naturally  hasty  and  passionate;  but  the  grace 
of  God  raised  him  so  much  above  himself, 
that  it  made  him  the  most  patient  man  in  the 
world,  in  the  most  intense  and  violent  pains, 


120  M.  LE  FEVRE,  THE 

I  praise  God,  the  God  of  my  fathers,  for  the 
spirit  of  meekness  wherewith  he  endued  his 
servant,  and  for  the  internal  piety  with  which 
he  inspired  him:  and  as  long  as  I  live,  I  shall 
bless  the  Lord  God  of  the  spirits  of  all  flesh, 
who  granted  me  the  favour  to  be  present 
when  he  took  the  soul  of  his  servant  to  him- 
self, and  when  he  put  these  words  into  my 
mouth, '  Lord  Jesus  receive  his  spirit  into  thy 
hands  I9  May  the  blessed  Jesus  put  them 
again  into  my  heart  and  mouth,  at  the  last 
moment  of  my  life;  and  say  himself  unto  my 
soul, '  Eater  thou  into  the  joy  of  thy  Lord:  I 
am  thy  Saviour. ' ' 

M.  Le  Fevre,  after  studying  at  Geneva  and 
at  Orleans,  where  he  took  his  degree,  repaired 
to  Paris.  The  testimonials  he  brought  with 
him  recommended  him  to  the  notice  of  the 
advocate-general,  who  admitted  him  as  one  of 
the  advocates  of  the  court  of  parliament.  But 
scarcely  was  he  entered  on  a  career  so  favour- 
able to  his  wishes,  when  the  Edict  of  Nantes 
was  revoked.  He  was  compelled  to  seek 
safety  by  flight;  but  in  vain.  Arrested  and 
tried  at  Besangon,  he  was  condemned  to  the 
galleys.  From  Besangon  he  was  conducted, 


PRISONER  OF  THE  GALLEYS.  121 

first,  to  Dijon,  where  he  arrived  May  30, 
1686.  From  the  prisons  of  Dijon  he  wrote 
to  a  friend,  describing  the  hardships  of  his 
journey  to  this  new  house  of  bondage,  and  the 
sufferings  it  subsequently  occasioned.  "  I 
am/'  he  says,  "  as  it  were,  impotent.  I  suffer 
great  pains  all  over  my  body;  and  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  comfort  that  the  Lord  sent 
me  at  Ausonne,  they  would  not  have  brought 
me  alive  to  Dijon.  My  irons  were  taken  off 
at  Ausonne,  and  I  was  set  on  horseback; 
whereas  I  was  before  in  the  waggon,  in  a 
distressing  posture,  and  pressed  on  all  sides. 
But  whatever  happens  to  us,  we  put  our  trust 
in  God;  we  hope  in  him  only.  I  have  had 
some  fits  of  ague,  more  violent  than  ever;  but 
God  will  not  forsake  me."  He  was  advised 
to  present  a  petition  to  the  intendant,  in  order 
that,  if  possible,  some  relief  might  be  obtained 
for  him,  when  he  should  be  attached  to  the 
chain,  to  proceed  with  other  prisoners  to  the 
galley-station.  But  he  declined  doing  so, 
observing,  that  if  he  should  be  favoured  more 
than  others,  which  he  believed  would  not  be 
the  case,  it  would  be  cowardice  in  him  to 
shrink  back  from  the  burden  which  others 
11 


122  M.  JLE  FEVRE,  THE 

were  bearing.  "  We  do  not  fear,"  he  said, 
"  all  the  preparations  they  threaten  us  with, 
and  which  we  cannot  avoid,  without  a  mira- 
cle: we  wait  for  it  all.  The  sight  of  a  passion- 
ate deputy,  and  a  troop  of  inhuman  guards, 
will  be  nothing  frightful  to  us.  That  which 
troubles  me  most,  is  the  blasphemies  of  the 
wicked  wretches  with  whom  we  shall  be 
coupled." 

We  may  here  observe,  that  the  convicts  in 
France  then,  as  in  the  present  day,  were  con- 
ducted to  their  place  of  destination,  not  only 
manacled  and  coupled  together,  as  in  England, 
but  beside  this,  a  chain  passing  through  a  ring 
on  the  fetters  of  each  prisoner,  linked  the  first 
couple  to  the  second,  and  so  on  in  succession, 
thus  uniting  the  whole  party,  however  nume- 
rous, and  rendering  escape  on  the  road  impos- 
sible: hence  the  use  of  the  phrase,  "the 
chain,"  to  express  the  body  of  prisoners  sent 
off  to  the  galleys.  M.  Le  Fevre  was  detained 
about  two  months  at  Dijon,  and  then  con- 
ducted, with  his  companions  in  misery,  to 
Chalons,  where  the  chain  that  came  from 
Paris  also  arrived  about  the  same  time;  and  to 
this  was  attached  the  devoted  M.  de  Marolles, 


PRISONER  OF  THE  GALLEYS.  123 

whose  sufferings  occupy  the  next  chapter. 
He  was,  at  that  time,  ill  with  fever;  and  the 
sickness  of  this  good  man  seems  to  have  been 
far  more  afflicting  to  M.  Le  Fevre  than  his 
own  sufferings.  He  writes  to  a  friend:  "If 
it  were  not  for  the  sickness  of  the  illustrious 
M.  de  Marolles,  which  continues  still,  I  would 
tell  you,  my  dear  friend,  nothing  but  matters 
of  rejoicing;  but  my  heart  is  wounded.  I 
hope,  with  the  assistance  of  heaven,  that  the 
fever  of  that  servant  of  the  Lord  Jesus  will 
abate  by  rest." 

When  they  finally  arrived  at  Marseilles, 
both  de  Marolles  and  Le  Fevre  were  found 
unable  to  work,  and  were  removed  to  the  hos- 
pital of  the  galley;  from  whence  the  following 
letter,  descriptive  of  their  afflictions  and  their 
abounding  consolation,  under  all,  was  written 
by  M.  Le  Fevre,  on  the  20th  of  August, 
1786. 

"  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  my  flesh  was  grown 
suddenly  old.  I  found  myself  in  the  pains  of 
death:  the  guard  thought  me  dead,  and  as  such, 
one  took  one  thing,  and  another  took  another 
tffing  from  me;  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
little  stop  we  made  at  Avignon,  I  could  expect 


124  M.   LE  FEVRE,  THE 

nothing  short  of  a  cruel  death.     With  long 

entreaties,  M.   de  St.  P suffered  me  to 

take  a  litter,  on  paying  for  the  guard.  Money 
was  a  great  assistance  to  me*:  I  have  dispersed 
it.  But  wherefore  all  those  cares  and  expen- 
ses, to  come  to  a  place  that  may  be  called  the 
abode  of  misery;  where  I  am  mixed  with  a 
very  great  number  of  galley-slaves?  I  have 
been  forty-eight  hours  without  being  able  to 
eat  or  drink  what  they  give  here,  or  capable 
of  closing  the  eye  to  sleep.  At  last,  com- 
mending my  soul  to  God,  in  that  condition  I 
saw  Mr.  J.*  coming  to  me,  who  told  me  that 
I  was  recommended  to  him  by  his  friend  G. 
After  that  visit,  the  fever  left  me.  My  life  is 
not  precious  to  me;  I  could  leave  it  with 
delight,  if  it  were  God's  will;  but  the  Lord 
appears  to  work  miracles  to  preserve  me. 
Farewell,  my  dear:  greet  the  brethren,  and 
pray  for  me.  They  continue  controversies 
with  me,  and  to  speak  of  my  changing  my 
religion.  Plow  long,  Lord!" 

While  he  was  in  that  hospital,  with  M.  de 
Marolles,  he  was  very  ill.  "  I  fall,"  said  he, 
"  from  one  relapse  to  another,  and  have  fouTO 

*  Supposed  to  be  a  physician. 


PRISONER  OF  THE  GALLEYS.  125 

myself  at  death's  door.  The  physician  of  the 
hospital  took  great  care  of  me,  and  he  won- 
dered to  see  me  not  complaining,  and  '  that 
the  pains  I  endured  did  not  make  me  sigh/ 
I  could  not  walk  these  two  days,  and  find 
myself  very  weak;  yet  do  not  believe  for  all 
that,  that  our  condition  is  so  unhappy  as  the 
people  of  the  world  think  it:  no,  doubtless, 
were  it  only  for  the  testimony  of  a  good  con- 
science, we  are  happy;  and  nothing  can  take 
our  joy  from  us  in  our  sufferings.  The  Divine 
Comforter,  who  puts  us  all  in  heart,  comes  to 
our  assistance:  sometimes  he  hides  himself, 
because  we  are  people  of  little  faith;  but  God 
pities  our  necessities:  he  supports  us,  and 
takes  us  by  the  hand;  and  in  that  state  death 
is  no  longer  a  king  of  terrors  to  us.  We  are 
assured  by  him  that  loved  us,  that  we  shall 
receive  mercy,  and  die  the  death  of  the  right- 
eous. What  a  comfort!  What  a  solid  happi- 
ness is  this!" 

In  a  letter  of  the  17th  of  September,  1686, 
he  says:  "  They  sent  me  and  M.  de  Marolles 
to  the  galleys,  without  any  regard  that  we  are 
languishing  and  sick.  M.  de  Marolles  began 
to  walk,  but  /cannot  stand.  He  was  declared 


126  M.   LE  FEVRE,  THE 

invalid,  and  put  into  the  St.  John,  so  that  he 
is  exempted  from  rowing;  and  I  expect  only 
what  it  shall  please  God  to  send  me.     I  went 
on  board  yesterday,  where  I  was  immediately 
loaded  with  chains.     To  all  this  I  oppose  the 
will  of  God.     If  poverty,  sickness,  pains,  and 
captivity,  are  the  means  he  will  make  use  of, 
why  should  I  refuse  them?     I  shall  die  con- 
tentedly when  it  may  please  God  to  call  me. 
In  these  hard  extremes,  though   God  should 
slay  me,  yet  will  I  hope  in  him,  and  praise 
him  all  the  days  of  my  life.     I  am  reduced  to 
lie  on  a  board  that  is  but  a  little  more  than 
two  feet  wide.     I  have  nothing  to  cover  me; 
but  the  galley-slaves,   my   neighbours,   have 
stripped  themselves  for  me:  and  if  the  lice 
and  bugs  did  not  disturb  me,  I  have  found 
myself  disposed  for  sleep.     While  I  was  on 
board  the  Grand  Reale,  I  was  entered  among 
,  the  rest;  for,  in  the  galley,  all  the  slaves  are 
entered  down,  from  whencesoever  they  come. 
She  never  goes  to  sea,  nor  moves  out  of  the 
harbour.    When  she  has  many  slaves  on  board, 
they  are  all  sorted,  from  time  to  time,  except 
those  they  have  a  respect  for;  and  they  are 
brought  into  a  spacious  place,  where  the  inten- 


PRISONER    OP    THE    GALLEYS.  127 

dant,  the  commissary-general,  and  the  captains 
of  the  galleys  meet;  and  they  make  choice  of 
the  lustiest  and  most  vigorous  of  those  that 
are  ahle  to  row,  and  the  rest  are  sent  back  to 
the  Grand  Reale  until  further  orders.  Choice 
being  made  of  those  that  are  in  health,  they 
are  divided  on  the  armed  galleys.  Each  cap- 
tain takes  his  share.  My  bad  looks  were  of 
use  to  me:  I  was  not  chosen  on  that  occasion. 
There  was  but  one  captain  that  put  a  little 
jest  upon  me;  for,  turning  towards  me,  he 
asked  the  Sieur  Bonvalet  which  was  the  advo- 
cate, for  he  wanted  one.  I  answered  him  with 
such  a  sorrowful  and  languishing  tone,  that  I 
was  the  advocate,  that  he  turned  away  from 
me." 

Before  he  was  removed  from  the  galley  to 
the  dungeon,  he  found  means  to  send  the  fol- 
lowing letter  to  his  pastor: 

"  My  design  was.  dear  pastor,  to  give  you 
an  exact  relation  of  what  happened  to  me;  but 
certain  reasons  hindered  me.  I  shall  tell 
you,  in  short,  my  condition.  I  told  you 
before,  that  I  was  watched,  and  shut  up,  and 
had  seen  no  one.  I  was  then  put  on  board  a 
galley.  I  was  loaded  with  irons  and  chains. 


128  M.    LE    FEVRE,   THE 

I  lay  on  the  boards,  though  it  was  very  cold. 
They  hindered  me  from  covering  myself. 
They  railed  at  me,  and  lifted  up  their  cudgels 
against  me.  A  fever  seized  me,  and  all  my 
body  was  full  of  pains.  In  that  condition  my 
soul,  raising  itself  above  visible  things,  sought 
its  God,  and  its  only  hope.  The  comforts  that 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  gave  us  increased  pro- 
portionably  to  the  number  of  the  evils  that  we 
endured  for  his  sake.  He  encouraged  me  in 
all  my  fears,  and  said  unto  me, '  I  am  thy  sal- 
vation." On  board  one  galley,  I  witnessed 
the  assistance  of  men:  on  board  the  other,  I 
experienced  the  help  of  God.  What  shall  I 
say  to  you?  That  holy  and  divine  Spirit -was 
himself  my  comforter.  Who  else  could  make 
me  despise  the  things  I  feared  most?  The 
faithfulness  of  my  God  is  great!  He  is  near 
those  that  wait  on  him,  to  support,  maintain, 
and  defend  them.  He  leads  us  through  dark- 
ness to  his  marvellous  light;  and  among  the 
dread  of  the  galleys,  he  makes  us  taste  ineffa- 
ble delights.  I  might  truly  say,  (with  the 
apostle,)  '  When  I  am  weak,  then  am  I  strong.' 
I  shall  only  add,  that  I  am  weakness  itself.  I 
have  fightings  without  and  fears  within.  My 


PRISONER    OP    THE    GALLEYS.  J29 

heart  is  often  troubled:  my  soul  trembles,  and 
finds  itself  fainting;  and  if  God  comforts  me, 
it  is  because  he  is  my  refuge,  and  that  divers 
persons,  that  are  acceptable  to  him,  pray  for 
my  preservation  in  faith  and  love.  I  conjure 
you  then,  by  the  love  you  have  for  me,  to 
pray  without  ceasing;  and  not  only  for  me 
alone,  but  for  my  dear  fellow-sufferers  also. 
Here  are  divers  witnesses,  who  preserve  their 
faith  and  hope  inviolably,  and  that  are  resol- 
ved to  suffer  all,  yea,  death  itself,  if  it  please 
the  Lord,  '  for  the  word  of  God,  and  the  tes- 
timony of  Jesus. ?  We  endeavour  to  attain 
the  mark  of  our  high  calling.  The  race  is 
difficult;  the  way  is  rough;  but  we  cast  our 
eyes  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  the  author  and  finisher 
of  our  faith.  We  place  all  our  confidence  in 
him  that  raised  the  dead,  and  who  '  calls  the 
things  that  are  not,  as  though  they  were.9  " 

His  trials  were  then  only  beginning.  From 
the  galley-hospital  'he  was  removed  to  a  dun- 
geon in  the  Fort  St.  John,  which  he  describes 
as  a  vault  of  an  irregular  figure,  which  had 
formerly  been  a  stable;  but,  being  too  damp, 
was  found  unhealthy  for  horses:  it  was  there- 
fore abandoned  for  that  purpose,  and  consider- 


130  M.    LE    FEVRE,    THE 

ed  a  suitable  receptacle  for  such  unfortunate 
inmates  of  the  galleys  as  were  no  longer  able 
to  labour  at  the  oar.  The  manger  and  rack 
still  remained  to  show  its  original  destination; 
and  the  light  was  admitted  only  through  a 
grating  in  the  door.  As  he  entered  this  place, 
they  searched  him,  and  took  away  the  only 
books  he  had  been  able  to  retain  till  that  time. 
At  first,  he  rested  for  some  nights  in  the  man- 
ger, and  afterwards,  for  a  month,  on  a  short 
and  narrow  chest,  which  was  rendered  yet 
more  inconvenient  by  having  a  seat  of  straw 
placed  at  each  end,  so  that  he  could  not  lie  in 
an  easy  posture.  Nevertheless,  he  says  he 
slept  quietly  enough;  only  that  the  cold  some- 
times awakened  him,  as  he  had  no  other  cover- 
ing than  the  prison-garments  they  had  given 
him  in  the  galley.  No  fire  was  allowed 
him.  "  This  hard  entertainment,"  he  observes, 
"  caused  me  a  defluxion  on  the  teeth,  great 
pain,  rheumatism,  and  at  length  continual 
fever.  But  God  made  use  of  these  means  to 
wean  my  heart  from  the  world,  and  to  teach 
me  to  persevere  in  a  faithful  resignation  to  his 
will."  Though  of  a  tender  constitution,  his 
life  seems  to  have  been  preserved  almost  mira- 


PRISONER    OF    THE    GALLEYS.  131 

culously  under  so  many  privations  and  suffer- 
ings. At  this  period  he  was  not  permitted  to 
see  any  of  his  friends;  but  he  still,  at  times, 
found  opportunity  to  communicate  with  them 
by  letter,  and  likewise  to  hold  similar  inter- 
course with  his  honoured  fellow-sufferer,  M. 
de  Marolles.  This  was  very  difficult,  as  all 
who  assisted  the  prisoners  in  such  intercourse 
were  liable  to  the  severest  punishments,  and 
might  even  be  condemned  to  death  for  it.  He 
was  sometimes  obliged  to  keep  his  letters  a 
year  before  he  could  send  them.  Though  he 
still  possessed  his  soul  in  patience,  there  were 
seasons  when  he  was  led  to  look  on  death  as 
his  best  friend,  and  to  consider  that  the  happi- 
ness of  his  life  consisted,  in  losing  it.  To  a 
beloved  relative  he  writes:  "Be  sensible  of 
my  misery,  but  be  yet  more  sensible  of  the 
glory  and  happiness  to  which  that  misery 
tends.  Death  is  nothing:  Jesus  Christ  hath 
conquered  it  for  me;  and  when  the  time  shall 
come,  he  will  give  me  sufficient  strength  to 
pull  off  the  mask  that  it  wears  in  great  afflic- 
tions. The  fear  of  living  a  long  time  is 
greater  than  that  of  dying  soon.  In  the  mean 


132  M.    LE    FEVRE,   THE 


ej  it  is  more  honourable  to  endure  the  most 
wretched  life  than  to  desire  death." 

At  times  he  wrote  as  if  he  believed  himself 
dying;  and,  under  this  apprehension,  asked 
pardon  of  all  those  whom  he  had  offended 
through  weakness,  inadvertence,  or  otherwise; 
adding,  "  I  freely  forgive  those  who  have  of- 
fended me  in  any  way  whatsoever.  No!  it  is 
not  likely  I  can  live  much  longer,  unless  the 
Lord  move  the  hearts  of  those  who  give  orders 
for  my  sustenance.  They  try  always  to  weary 
out  my  patience;  and  there  is  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  the  money  given  for  me  is  not  em- 
ployed for  my  relief.  I  do  not  know  what  is 
done  with  it.  That  which  is  certain  is,  that 
when  I  entered  into  my  dungeon,  the  major 
told  me  that  the  king  would  not  maintain  me, 
and  that  I  ought  to  give  orders  for  my  expen- 
ses.* I  did  it,  and  agreed  with  a  tavern- 
keeper  for  ten-pence  a  day,  which  lasted  but 
three  months,  because  the  host  that  served  me 

*  For  this  purpose  he  was  permitted  to  send  bills  of  ex- 
change to  his  relations,  drawn  by  himself;  but  he  was  not 
allowed  to  accompany  them  with  a  single  line  of  informa- 
tion respecting  his  health  or  condition  in  any  particular. 


PRISONER  OF  THE  GALLEYS.  133 

cheated  me  of  provisions;  and  the  major  fa- 
voured him,  though  he  seemed  not  to  approve 
of  his  conduct  when  complaint  was  made  to 
him.  He  had  also  promised  that  I  should  be 
provided  with  a  matrass  and  covering,  mine 
being  rotten,  and  my  covering  all  rags;  but 
his  promise  was  of  no  avail.  In  the  mean 
time,  how  great  soever  my  anguish  was,  I 
esteemed  it  more  expedient  to  suffer  life  than 
to  desire  death:  unless  it  be  desired  as  St. 
Paul  did,  to  live  with  Christ,  to  possess  the 
fulness  of  that  holiness  and  charity,  that  is 
only  to  be  found  in  heaven.  God  will  be  glo- 
rified by  my  sufferings;  the  longer  they  last, 
and  the  more  difficult  to  be  supported,  the 
more  glory  the  Lord  will  have  of  them. 
They  deny  me  all  manner  of  commerce  with 
the  living,  and  also  with  the  dead;  but  the 
Lord,  who  is  my  God  and  my  deliverer,  has 
relieved  me.  He  has  had  pity  on  my  weak- 
ness, and  given  me  patience  that  I  never  durst 
have  hoped  for.  Glory  be  given  to  him  for 
it  now  and  evermore!  It  is  glorious  to  suffer 
for  his  cause.  I  do  not  refuse  the  honour  he 
does  me  on  that  account;  but  I  entreat  him 
12 


134  M.   LE  FEVRE,  THE 

by  the  bowels  of  his  mercy,  to  work  in  me 
more  powerfully,  both  to  will  and  to  do  ac- 
cording to  his  good  pleasure." 

Years  passed  away,  and  Le  Fevre  was  still 
the  solitary  tenant  of  the  dungeon  at  Marseil- 
les. While  the  companions  of  his  youth  and 
manhood,  and  those  who  had  entered  with 
him  on  an  honourable  career,  were  pursuing 
their  course,  amid  the  active  scenes  of  life, 
surrounded  by  social  and  domestic  comforts, 
he  sat  alone  in  his  cell,  unseen  by  all,  by  many 
unremembered;  but  surely  not  forgotten  by 
Him  "  who  heareth  the  prayer  of  the  desti- 
tute," and  suffereth  the  sighing  of  the  prisoner 
to  come  up  before  him. 

The  trial  of  the  sufferer's  faith  and  patience 
was,  indeed,  prolonged;  but  still  he  was  sup- 
ported under  it.  His  weakness  was  strength- 
ened; his  sorrows  were  mitigated;  his  spirit 
was  cheered  by  the  presence  of  that  gracious 
Saviour,  who  saith  to  his  children,  "  I  will 
never  leave  nor  forsake  you;  and  none  shall 
pluck  you  out  of  my  hand."  Of  a  truth  he  is 
their  Lord,  and  their  Shepherd,  in  every 
scene  of  calamity,  as  well  as  in  the  dark  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death;  and  they  are  enabled 


PRISONER  OF  THE  GALLEYS.  135 

to  say,  "  I  will  fear  no  evil:  thy  rod  and  thy 
staff  they  comfort  me." 

"That  field  of  promise  how  it  flings  abroad 
It's  odour  o'er  the  Christian's  thorny  road ! 
The  soul,  reposing  on  assured  relief, 
Feels  herself  happy  amidst  all  her  grief; 
Forgets  her  labour  as  she  toils  along, 
Weeps  tears  of  joy,  and  bursts  into  a  song." 

Many  of  those  who  were  dwelling  at  ease 
and  in  prosperity,  but  whose  hearts  were  not 
right  before  God,  might  well  have  envied  Le 
Fevre  in  his  afflictions.  It  is  thus  he  writes  to 
a  relative,  in  1695:  "I  enter  into  the  tenth 
year  of  my  sufferings;  and  by  God's  grace  I 
have  neither  lost  faith  nor  patience,  at  least 
not  totally.  Ah!  my  dear  kinswoman,  the 
Lord  hath  heard  your  prayer,  and  those  of 
the  Moseses  and  Samuels  who  intercede  for 
me.  If  I  were  but  disburdened  of  sin,  and  if 
1  could  disengage  myself  from  the  thoughts  of 
the  world,  I  should  be  too  happy.  I  should 
be  incomparably  more  happy  than  I  was  in 
the  world,  though,  when  I  left  it,  I  had  almost 
all  I  could  desire  in  it.  But  I  confess,  with 
grief  and  confusion,  that  I  am  a  man  of  little 
faith,  and  a  sinner.  I  have  desired  my  visi- 


136  M.  LE  FEVRE,  THE 

ble  and  temporal  liberty  with  too  much  fer- 
vency. I  expect  all  from  the  grace  of  my 
God:  I  hope  all  from  my  Saviour,  Jesus 
Christ,  who  will  subject  my  flesh  to  himself, 
and  who  will  heal  the  diseases  of  my  soul. 
My  comfort  is,  that  this  Great  Physician  has 
undertaken  my  cure,  and  that  he  will  never 
forsake  me.  He  sought  me  when  I  did  not 
seek  him,  he  has  engaged  me  in  the  defence 
of  his  truth,  in  spite  of  my  resistance  and  my 
fear.  Will  he  forsake  me,  then,  when  I  seek 
him — when  I  am  afraid  of  nothing  more 
than  that  I  should  fear  something  else  more 
than  him?  No!  because  that  seeking  after 
him,  that  desire,  that  filial  fear  are  earnests 
of  his  love,  and  assurances  of  his  protection. 
What  has  he  not  done,  and  what  does  he  not 
do  for  me?  and  where  can  I  find  one  like  him 
in  heaven  or  earth?  He  opens  the  ear  of  my 
soul,  to  cause  me  to  hear  his  voice;  and  he 
takes  me  by  the  hand  when  he  seeth  me  stag- 
ger. He  raiseth  me  up  when  I  am  fallen:  he 
supports  me,  in  my  weaknesses  and  defects, 
from  all  the  power  of  those  who  would  devour 
me.  His  design,  doubtless,  is  to  lead  me  into 
that  city  whereof  '  glorious  things  are  spo- 


PRISONER  OF  THE  GALLEYS.  137 

ken.'  As  for  the  rest,  God  is  always  in  my 
heart,  though  he  does  not  always  make  him- 
self to  be  equally  felt  there.  I  shall  rest  with 
confidence,  provided  he  assists  me;  for,  with- 
out his  assistance,  I  fall  away  like  water. 
God  is  stronger  than  all,  and  no  one  can  take 
me  out  of  his  hand.  The  tender  care  that  his 
adorable  providence  has  been  pleased  to  take 
of  me,  strengthens  me  in  the  midst  of  my 
fears." 

After  the  period  at  which  the  above  letter 
was  written,  six  years  more  were  added  to  his 
captivity;  and  then  his  spirit  was  freed  from 
every  fetter,  to  enter  into  the  mansion  prepa- 
red for  him,  where  the  oppressor  can  never 
enter. 

From  the  scanty  records  of  his  last  days, 
we  find  that  some  alleviations  were  allowed 
him  in  his  extremity.  He  was  permitted  the 
privilege  of  sometimes  seeing  a  benevolent 
Protestant  lady,  (Lady  Salincroffe,)  in  the 
presence  of  witnesses.  To  see  and  converse 
with  one  who  had  so  much  in  common  with 
him,  was  an  unspeakable  consolation;  though 
their  intercourse  was  fettered  by  the  presence 
of  men  who  watched  the  utterance  of  every 
12* 


138  M.  LE  FEVRE. 

word.  In  all  her  visits  Lady  Salincroffe  found 
the  sufferer  like  the  first  martyr,  Stephen,  full 
of  faith  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  all  zeal  and 
charity  for  his  persecutors.  She  saw  him  for 
the  last  time,  two  days  before  his  death.  He 
then  appeared  very  weak,  but  in  the  same 
truly  Christian  frame  of  spirit. 

A  Protestant  gentleman,  writing  of  this 
event,  says:  "  We  are  sorry  we  could  not  col- 
lect what  he  had  to  say  in  his  sickness.  He 
is  dead:  that  is  to  say,  he  has  conquered,  by 
the  grace  of  God;  and  there  remains  nothing 
for  him  but  to  triumph  with  his  Saviour,  and 
to  possess  that  kingdom  and  crown  which  he 
purchased  for  his  confessors  and  martyrs." 

Such  are  the  prison  annals  of  M.  Le  Fevre. 
Are  not  his  sufferings  recorded  on  high? 
When  the  books  shall  be  opened,  and  the 
judgment  set,  this  patient  sufferer  will  assu- 
redly be  of  the  number  to  whom  the  Judge 
shall  say,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father, 
inherit  a  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the 
foundations  of  the  world." 


139 


M.  DE  MAROLLES, 


THE    EXILE   ARRESTED    IN   HIS    FLIGHT. 


ONE  of  the  many  instances  in  which  the  Pro- 
testants were  prevented  from  obeying  the 
exhortation  of  the  apostle,  "  When  they  per- 
secute you  in  one  city  flee  unto  another/' 
occurred  in  the  case  of  M.  Louis  de  Marolles. 
He  was  of  an  ancient  family,  and  held  the 
office  of  king's  counsellor,  and  receiver  of  con- 
signments in  the  distant  province  where  he 
was  settled  with  his  wife  and  four  children. 
When  the  Decree  of  Revocation  sounded  its 
fearful  note  of  warning  through  the  land,  M. 
de  Marolles  proposed  to  escape  with  his  family 
to  another  country.  They  had  nearly  reached 
the  limits  of  the  kingdom,  and  would  soon 
have  passed  the  Rhine,  and  been  in  safety, 
among  the  Protestants  of  Germany,  when 
they  were  overtaken,  arrested,  and  conveyed 
to  one  of  the  prisons  at  Strasbourg,  on  the  2d 


140  M.   DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

of  December,  1685.  His  wife  and  children 
were  afterwards  set  at  liberty,  and  allowed  to 
proceed  on  their  journey;  but  he  was  tried, 
and  condemned  to  the  galleys,  by  the  follow- 
ing decree: 

"  We  adjudge,  that  the  said  de  Marolles  is 
declared,  proved,  and  convicted  of  having  been 
apprehended  endeavouring  to  go  out  of  the 
kingdom,  with  his  family,  contrary  to  his 
majesty 's  edicts  and  declarations;  for  repara- 
tion whereof,  we  have  condemned,  and  do 
condemn  the  said  de  Marolles,  prisoner,  to 
serve  the  king  for  ever,  on  board  the  galleys; 
and  his  personal  goods  and  chattels  forfeited 
to  the  king,  by  this  our  judgment  and  decree." 

For  this  crime  of  endeavouring  to  escape 
to  a  country  where  he  might  serve  his  God 
according  to  the  dictates  of  an  enlightened 
conscience,  he  was  torn  from  his  beloved 
family,  and  condemned  to  hopeless  slavery, 
and  untold  hardships.  His  health  sunk  under 
his  accumulated  sufferings,  even  before  he 
reached  the  galley  at  Marseilles,  which  was  to 
be  his  mournful  abiding-place,  as  long  as  he 
had  strength  to  move  the  oar;  but  so  debili- 
tated was  he  found  to  be,  that  he  was  speedily 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       141 

removed,  as  disabled,  and  consigned  to  a  dun- 
geon, where  the  remainder  of  his  days  were 
passed. 

The  case  of  this  excellent  and  respectable 
man  seems  to  have  excited  much  sensation, 
both  at  Paris  and  the  places  he  passed  through. 
Such  scenes,  afterwards,  became  too  common 
to  awaken  much  interest.  "  This  famous  galle- 
rien,"  says  his  biographer,  "  whose  case  had 
excited  so  much  emotion  in  Paris,  drew  a 
great  concourse  of  people  at  his  departure. 
Every  one  seemed  touched  with  the  scene; 
and  an  ancient  Catholic  merchant,  breaking 
through  the  throng,  came  and  embraced  him, 
encouraging  him,  and  offering  him  his  purse. 
This  man's  heart  was  indeed  touched;  for  he 
hath  since  given  glory  to  God,  and  retired 
with  his  family  to  London,  there  to  make  pro- 
fession of  the  truth." 

His  departure  for  Marseilles  did  not  imme- 
diately follow  his  condemnation.  He  was 
detained  many  weeks  in  the  prison  of  Les 
Tournelles,  where  those  persons  who  are  con- 
demned to  the  galleys  wait,  till  the  whole  of 
the  convicts  are  ready  to  set  out.  During  this 


142  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

period  he  wrote  the  following  letter  to  his 
sister-in-law: 

"  I  have  been  two  full  months,  with  seven 
miserable  wretches,  condemned  either  to  the 
galleys  or  to  be  broken  alive  on  the  wheel,  in 
a  dungeon  so  dark  that  I  could  not  well  dis- 
cern their  faces.  They  have  all  of  them  been 
troubled  with  rheums  and  fluxes,  which  God 
has  preserved  me  from,  though  I  am  old,  and 
they  are  all  of  them  young.  The  llth  of  the 
month,  I  was  taken  out  of  the  dungeon,  and 
brought  to  the  criminal  court  to  be  judged. 
The  president  of  the  house,  who  was  at  the 
head  of  my  judges,  ordered  me  to  sit  down 
upon  the  prisoners'  stool,  and  take  my  oath  to 
speak  the  truth.  I  answered  to  all  he  desired 
to  know  of  me;  after  which,  he  gave  me  an 
exhortation,  and  bid  me  think  seriously  with 
myself,  that  it  was  not  they  that  should  judge 
me,  but  that  the  declaration  of  the  king  did 
especially  mention  my  condemnation.  I  re- 
turned him  thanks  for  his  goodness,  and  told 
him  that  my  resolution  was  fixed  long  ago 
and  that  I  resigned  myself  to  the  court,  and 
was  ready  to  suffer  the  penalties  to  which 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  ALIGHT.       143 

they  might  think  fit  to  condemn  me;  and  that, 
however  great  they  might  be,  they  would  be 
less  uneasy  to  me  than  to  act  against  the  light 
of  my  conscience,  and  live  like  a  hypocrite. 
They  ordered  me,  thereupon,  to  withdraw, 
and  I  was  conveyed  back  to  my  dungeon.  I 
expected  to  be  conducted  in  the  afternoon  to 
Les  Tournelles,  but  they  deferred  my  judg- 
ment till  the  Tuesday  following.  The  14th 
of  May,  they  put  manacles  on  my  hands,  and 
so  conducted  me  in  a  coach  to  Les  Tournelles. 
The  governor,  knowing  who  I  was,  and  being 
informed  of  my  crime,  caused  me  to  be  treated 
with  as  much  gentleness  as  can  be  expected  in 
that  place.  They  were  contented  to  put  a  fet- 
ter on  one  foot.  But,  the  next  morning,  he 
came  to  tell  me  he  had  just  received  orders, 
which  afflicted  him  very  much;  which  was, 
that  the  king  had  commanded  that  the  chain 
should  be  put  on  my  neck.  I  thanked  him 
for  the  kindness  he  expressed  towards  me, 
and  told  him  that  I  was  ready  to  pay  a  res- 
pectful obedience  to  the  orders  of  his  majesty. 
I  laid  aside  my  hat;  they  took  the  chain  from 
off  my  foot,  and  put  another  about  my  neck, 
which  doth  not,  I  believe,  weigh  less  than 


144  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

thirty  pounds.  Thus  you  see,  my  dear  sister, 
the  state  and  condition  which  the  wise  provi- 
dence of  God  hath  chosen  and  allotted  for  me, 
out  of  a  thousand  others  in  which  he  might 
have  placed  me.  I  expect,  from  his  mercy, 
strength  and  constancy,  to  suffer  all  for  his 
glory.  Do  not  afflict  yourself  at  my  condi- 
tion, my  dear  sister;  it  is  more  happy  than 
you  think.  Weep  not  for  me.  Keep  your 
tears  for  so  many  miserable  wretches  who  live 
not  so  contentedly  as  I  do.  Grant  me  the 
assistance  of  your  prayers.  I  assure  you  I  do 
not  forget  you  in  mine." 

He  remained  in  this  prison  till  the  month  of 
July  was  far  advanced,  and  wrote  from  thence 
several  letters,  and,  among  them,  one  to  the 
celebrated  Protestant  minister,  M.  Jurieu. 
After  alluding  to  his  imprisonment,  he  ob- 
serves: "  The  satisfaction  with  which  God 
enables  me  to  regard  my  sufferings,  confirms 
my  belief  that  he  will  give  me  grace  to  con- 
tinue faithful  to  him,  even  unto  death.  I  am 
certain  that  the  light  afflictions  with  which  he 
is  pleased  to  visit  me,  will  produce  in  me, 
according  to  his  divine  promises,  an  eternal 
weight  of  exceeding  great  glory.  I  comfort 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       145 

myself,  because  the  sufferings  of  this  present 
time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  the 
future  glory  which  is  to  be  revealed  in  us.  I 
rejoice  that  our  Saviour  has  pronounced  those 
blessed  '  who  suffer  for  righteousness'  sake. ' 
Thus,  sir,  I  make  all  my  happiness  and  glory 
to  c'onsist  in  this,  that  my  Redeemer  doth  not 
count  me  unworthy  to  suffer  for  his  name 
sake.  1  fix  my  confidence  upon  the  eternal 
Rock.  I  put  all  my  trust  in  him.  I  expect 
help  and  succour  from  him  alone.  Fixed 
upon  so  solid  a  foundation,  I  persuade  myself 
that  nothing  shall  be  able  to  move  me.  This, 
sir,  is  my  usual  occupation,  as  much  as  the 
infamous  place  in  which  I  am  confined  will 
permit.  I  call  it  infamous,  because  there  is 
not  an  honest  or  a  virtuous  word  to  be  heard 
here.  It  resounds  with  nothing  but  filthy 
communications  and  execrable  blasphemies. 
They  make  such  noise  and  tumult  all  day,  and 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  that  hereto- 
fore I  could  scarcely  find  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity to  lift  up  my  heart  to  God.  I  was  so 
overwhelmed  with  drowsiness,  that  I  often 
fell  asleep  before  I  had  made  an  end  of  prayer. 

When  I  awoke,  about  three  or  four  o'clock  in 
13 


M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

the  morning,  I  endeavoured  to  keep  myself 
awake,  that  I  might,  while  the  place  was  free 
from  noise,  pay  my  homage  to  God  with 
some  attention.  I  have  had  more  liberty 
these  ten  or  twelve  days;  for  when  it  is  fine 
weather,  they  suffer  the  chain  to  go  out,  and 
abide  in  the  court  all  day,  excepting  six  of  us, 
who  are  kept  locked  up.  I  spend  one  part  of 
this  time  in  reading,  meditation,  and  prayer; 
and  I  likewise  take  the  liberty  to  sing  psalms, 
as  I  have  done  in  all  the  places  of  my  impri- 
sonment, without  ever  having  been  complain- 
ed of  for  it.  We  lie,  fifty-three  of  us,  in  a 
place  which  is  not  above  thirty  feet  in  length, 
and  nine  in  breadth.  There  lies,  at  the  right 
side  of  me,  a  sick  peasant,  with  his  head  at  my 
feet.  There  is  scarcely  one  among  us  who 
does  not  envy  the  condition  of  dogs  and  horses. 
This  makes  us  all  desire  that  the  chain  may 
quickly  depart.  They  conceal  the  time  of 
departure  from  us;  but,  as  far  as  we  can  judge, 
it  will  take  place  next  Saturday.  We  were, 
yesterday,  ninety-five  condemned  persons;  but 
two  died  that  day,  and  one  to-day.  We  have 
still  fifteen  or  sixteen  sick.  I  have  had  five 
fits  of  tertian  fever;  but  I  thank  God  I  am 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       147 

completely  recovered,  and  fit  to  undertake  the 
journey  to  Marseilles.  We  shall  take  in  some 
of  our  brethren  at  Burgogne,  who  are  con- 
demned to  the  chain  for  the  same  cause  that  I 
am,  who  have  the  honour  to  be  the  first  con- 
demned by  the  parliament  of  Paris. " 

To  another  minister  he  writes:  "  I  can  truly 
and  sincerely  say,  sir,  that  the  prisons  and 
dark  dungeons,  in  which  I  have  been  confined 
for  above  these  six  months,  and  the  chain 
which  I  now  carry  about  my  neck,  have  been 
so  far  from  shaking  the  holy  resolution  which 
God  has  put  into  my  heart,  that  it  has  only 
strengthened  and  confirmed  it.  I  have  sought 
God,  in  my  affliction,  in  quite  a  different  me- 
thod than  ever  I  did  in  my  prosperity;  and  I 
may  say,  that  he  has  suffered  himself  to  be 
found  of  me.  He  has  very  delightfully  com- 
municated himself  to  me,  by  the  sweetness  of 
his  consolations.  The  evils  with  which  I  am 
threatened  do  not  at  all  terrify  me.  If  they 
are  violent,  I  am  not  in  a  condition  to  bear  up 
long  against  them;  and  so,  then,  death  will 
put  a  happy  period  thereto.  If  they  are  mo- 
derate, I  shall  have  reason  to  bless  our  God 
for  it,  who  will  continue  his  favour  and  good- 


148  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

ness  towards  me.  These  considerations  make 
me  look  on  the  future  with  firmness  and 
assurance. " 

Passing  by  the  details  of  his  melancholy 
journey,  we  will  present  our  readers  with 
extracts  from  letters,  written  on  board  the 
galleys,  which  exhibit  his  Christian  fortitude 
and  patience,  under  his  severe  trials,  and  may 
well  make  us  blush,  who  bear  our  lighter  ills 
with  so  different  a  spirit.  His  very  weak 
state  of  health  caused  him  to  be  removed, 
with  M.  Le  Fevre,  to  the  hospital,  by  which 
his  sufferings  were  greatly  mitigated  for  a 
time.  From  the  hospital  he  writes  thus  to 
his  afflicted  wife,  on  the  15th  of  September: 

"  The  miserable  journey  which  I  have  made 
has  taught  me  what  it  is  to  suffer:  let  us,  there- 
fore content  ourselves,  my  dear  child,  since 
that  is  past  and  gone,  and  I  am  in  a  place  of 
rest.  I  live  very  contentedly,  in  the  company 
of  M.  Le  Fevre,  who  is  a  famous  martyr,  and 
was  an  advocate  at  Chatel  Chinon,  in  Niver- 
nois.  We  are  always  together;  our  beds  join 
one  another.  Fresh  supplies  are  daily  offered 
to  M.  Le  Fevre  and  myself.  A  banker  has 
offered  us  money,  if  we  have  occasion  for  it. 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       149 

M.  La  F.  has  likewise  written  to  me  twice, 
to  offer  me  money;  but,  I  thank  God,  we  do 
not  yet  want  it.  M.  P.  has  my  little  treasure 
in  his  hand.  He  has  provided  me  a  steward 
at  the  hospital,  to  buy  me  whatsoever  I  want, 
who  reckons  with  M.  P.  for  his  expenses. 
Thus  you  see,  my  love,  I  have  nothing  else  to 
do  but  to  pray  to  God,  and  be  cheerful.  Let 
this  comfort  you,  and  give  you  reason  not  to 
trouble  yourself  at  my  condition;  it  is  render- 
ed easy,  by  the  grace  of  God." 

A  few  days  later  he  wrote  to  one  his  of  sons: 
"It  is  designed  next  week,  to  embark  one 
hundred  and  fifty  galley-slaves  for  America. 
I  was  ranked  in  this  number;  but  one  of  my 
friends  told  the  intendant  that  I  was  recovered 
from  three  fits  of  sickness,  which  I  have  had 
since  my  departure  from  La  Tournelle.  The 
favour  which  he  grants  me  is,  that  he  reserves 
me  for  a  second  embarkation,  which  is  to  be 
made  towards  the  middle  of  November.  The 
advantage  which  I  shall  gain  by  this  delay  is, 
that  he  who  spoke  to  the  intendant  for  me, 
has  the  direction  of  the  vessel  in  which  I  shall 
make  the  voyage.  Fear  not;  this  is  not  able 
to  shake  my  constancy:  God,  by  his  grace, 
13* 


150  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

has  fixed  it  upon  too  solid  a  foundation.  It  is 
no  matter  to  me  whether  I  die  by  sea  or  by 
land,  in  Europe  or  America.  I  have  fully 
resigned  myself  to  the  will  of  God.  I  am 
persuaded  that  all  states  and  conditions  in 
which  it  shall  please  him  to  place  me,  are 
those  states  in  which  he  judges  I  shall  glorify 
him  better  than  in  an  infinite  number  of  others 
which  he  might  allot  me.  You  must  not  be 
afflicted;  this  was  decreed  in  heaven  before  it 
was  appointed  on  earth;  and  we  mu^t  all  be 
persuaded  that  it  is  for  our  good  God  is  pleas- 
ed so  to  order  it." 

In  a  cheerful  letter,  addressed  to  his  wife, 
he  gives  a  sprightly  description  of  his  little 
plans  for  the  management  of  his  prison  affairs, 
and  details  to  her  the  particulars  of  his  "  fine 
galley-slave  habit."  He  adds,  with  touching 
simplicity,  "My  clothes  of  liberty  are  not 
lost;  and  if  it  should  please  the  king  to  show 
me  favour,  I  should  have  them  again.  We 
have  the  most  honest  patron  of  all  the  galleys. 
He  treats  me  with  all  manner  of  civility  and 
respect.  He  will  put  me  into  what  part  of 
the  galley  I  please ;  and  he  has  promised  that, 
when  it  is  cold,  he  will  let  me  lie  in  his  cabin. 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       151 

Let  all  these  succours,  which  God  affords  me, 
comfort  and  rejoice  thee.  I  am  already  as 
used  to  the  place  where  I  am,  as  if  I  had  been 
there  all  my  life  time." 

He  had  now  been  removed  from  the  hospi- 
tal back  to  the  galley;  but  it  does  not  appear 
that  he  was  compelled  to  labour.  In  the  fol- 
lowing month,  he  wrote  to  his  wife,  from  the 
galley  La  Fiere:  "  You  must  not  disturb  and 
disquiet  yourself  for  me.  I  am  at  present  in 
perfect  health;  but,  in  order  fully  to  persuade 
you  that  I  conceal  nothing  of  my  condition 
from  you,  I  will  give  you  to  understand,  that 
M.  Le  Fevre  and  myself  are  no  longer  set 
loose  from  the  chain,  either  by  day  or  night; 
and  that  we  are  not  allowed  the  liberty  of 
going  on  shore,  nor  suffered  to  receive  letters, 
nor  to  write  any  which  are  not  seen.  Where- 
fore, if  you  do  not  meet  with  any  more  trifles 
in  mine,  by  which  I  have  endeavoured  to  di- 
vert thee  from  thy  trouble,  be  not  afflicted, 
and  do  not  impute  any  thing  to  me  on  that 
account.  I  have  changed  my  galley  thrice  in 
one  week;  from  La  Grande  St.  Jean,  I  have 
been  removed  to  La  Petite,  and  from  thence 
to  La  Grande  Royale,  whence  I  was  con- 


|52  M.   DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

ducted,  with  several  other  galley-slaves,  to  the 
Pare,  a  place  where  they  divide  them :  lastly, 
I  was  put  on  board  an  armed  galley,  which  is 
called  La  Fiere." 

From  this  time  his  sufferings  seem  to  have 
increased;  but  he  still  endeavoured  to  give  his 
friends  as  favourable  an  impression  of  his 
situation  as  he  could  do,  consistently  with 
truth;  speaking  but  little  of  his  sorrows,  and 
magnifying  his  mercies.  Finding  that  some 
distressing  reports  of  his  condition  had  reach- 
ed his  wife,  he  wrote  to  her  as  follows: 

"  All  that  of  which  you  have  sent  me  word 
is  false,  except  two  things;  namely,  that  for 
above  three  months  I  have  been  confined  to 
the  chain  day  and  night,  and  that  I  have  only 
been  freed  from  it  to  be  conveyed  to  the 
Bishop  of  Marseilles.*  I  assure  you,  that  I 
have  not  as  yet  received  orders  from  any  one, 
to  employ  myself  in  work.  I  sat  very  quietly 
in  my  place,  and  saw  it  done,  before  the  short 
days;  and  it  is  at  present  done  almost  every 
day,  before  I  am  removed  from  my  place. 
Praise  God,  therefore,  with  me,  for  this  mer- 

*  He  had  many  interviews  with  the  bishop,  who  sought 
to  convert  him  to  the  Romish  faith  by  his  arguments. 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       153 

ciful  treatment  which  he  affords  me;  and  be- 
seech him,  that  as  long  as  he  shall  see  fit  to 
continue  my  sufferings,  my  condition  may  not 
become  worse.  I  assure  you  I  have  not  so 
much  reason  to  complain  as  you  imagine;  and 
the  time  slips  away  very  quickly.  The  week 
is  no  sooner  begun,  than  I  find  myself  at 
the  end  of  it.  When  I  am  up,  after  having 
presented  my  petitions  to  God,  I  read,  six, 
seven,  or  eight  chapters  of  Holy  Scriptures, 
and  make  such  reflections  and  observations 
thereon  as  I  am  able.  I  draw  from  this  di- 
vine source  all  the  consolations  of  which  I 
stand  in  need.  God  himself  does  most  plen- 
tifully furnish  me  with  them;  and  with  his 
precious  balm  of  Gilead,  he  gently  anoints  and 
soothes  all  the  wounds  which  my  sufferings 
may  make  in  my  heart." 

In  another  letter  he  says:  "  My  paper  is 
full,  and  I  find  I  have  yet  a  long  story  to  tell 
you.  I  am  lodged  in  one  of  the  extremities 
of  the  galley,  which  is  called  the  prow,  or 
beak,  in  a  little  cabin,  about  seven  or  eight 
feet  square.  The  ceiling  is  so  low  that  I 
cannot  stand  upright  in  it.  We  generally  lie 
four  of  us  therein;  two  galleriens  and  two 


154  M.   DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

slaves.  Twice  or  thrice  a  week  I  commonly 
boil  the  pot,  in  which  is  put  five  quarters  of  a 
pound  of  mutton.  This  does  not  make  a  full 
pound  of  our  country  weight.  There  is  very 
little  beef  here,  and  scarcely  any  veal.  The 
other  gallerien  and  I  eat  together,  though  I 
alone  pay  for  it;  but  he  does  me  service 
enough  for  it  other  ways.  Bread  is  dear,  but 
I  sometimes  eat  of  the  king's  bread.  As  for 
the  other  food,  that  which  the  king  allows  is  a 
good  half  porringer  full  of  beans,  dressed  in 
oil,  for  the  whole  day.  I  eat  none  of  it;  so 
my  usual  food  is  bread,  with  which  I  have  of 
late  eaten  a  few  dried  raisins,  a  pound  of  which 
cost  me  eighteen  deniers.  The  wines  here 
are  so  gross  that  they  produce  much  disease. 
I  lie  upon  a  galley  mattrass,  which  they  call 
strapontin.  It  is  made  of  three  or  four  old 
coats.  I  had  it  from  a  gallerien  belonging  to 
the  bench,  who  went  off  with  the  first  embar- 
kation for  America.  They  have  lent  me  a 
quilt,  which,  together  with  my  great-coat, 
serve  me  for  a  coverlet.  I  have  bought  coals, 
which  are  very  dear,  and  I  make  a  little  fire 
in  our  apartment.  Our  officers  come  to  warm 
themselves,  and  talk  with  me  at  my  fire:  I 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  PLIGHT.        155 

mean  those  who  have  the  command  of  the 
galleriens,  and  I  have  always  received  civility 
enough  from  them.  The  second  embarkment 
for  America  is  made  up,  but  I  believe  the 
vessel  is  yet  in  port.  The  beginning  of  last 
month,  there  arrived  here  a  chain  of  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  men,  without  reckoning  thirty- 
three  who  died  by  the  way.  M.  Gamier  is 
one  of  the  number,  with  a  nephew  of  M.  Var- 
nier,  doctor  of  physic,  and  M.  Changuinon,  of 
Vassi,  and  his  brother-in-law,  who  went  by 
the  name  of  Chemet.  There  were  seven  or 
eight  Protestants.  The  above-named  four  are 
in  the  hospital."  The  death  of  the  two  latter 
sufferers,  soon  after  their  arrival  at  Marseilles, 
has  been  recorded  in  a  former  chapter. 

M.  de  Marolles  goes  on  to  say,  that  he 
beguiles  the  hours  of  captivity,  by  turning  his 
attention  to  geometry  and  algebra,  which 
were  his  favourite  studies  in  the  days  of  pros- 
perity. He  even  expresses  the  pleasure  he 
has  felt  in  being  told  that  there  is  a  good  alge- 
braist in  Marseilles;  and  adds,  "  if  that  is  the 
case,  we  may  teach  each  other  something." 
Thus  did  this  good  man  avail  himself,  with  a 
thankful  heart,  of  all  the  alleviations  placed 


156  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

within  his  reach;  while,  at  the  same  time,  he 
resigned  himself  wholly  to  the  will  of  his 
Heavenly  Father,  persuaded  that  he  would 
order  all  things  well.  How  different  is  this 
to  the  way  in  which  we  are,  too  many  of  us, 
prone  to  receive  our  afflictions;  crying  out, 
with  Jonah,  when  our  gourds  are  smitten, 
"Take  my  life  from  me,  I  beseech  thee;  for 
it  is  better  for  me  to  die  than  to  live!"  or,  at 
the  best,  sullenly  resigning  ourselves  to  evils, 
which  we  know  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  pre- 
vent. How  unlike  this  to  the  spirit  of  cheer- 
ful submission,  which  kisses  the  rod,  and  takes 
joyfully  the  appointed  trial;  saying,  "  Shall 
we  receive  good  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  shall 
we  not  receive  evil  ?"  "  It  is  the  Lord,  let 
him  do  what  seemeth  him  good."  Does  not 
the  example  of  this  patient  sufferer  in  the  gal- 
leys of  Marseilles,  rise  up  to  reprove  us,  if  we 
thus  u  despise  the  chastening  of  the  Lord,  or 
faint  when  we  are  rebuked  of  him  ?" 

In  another  letter  to  Madame  de  Marolles, 
he  speaks  of  the  comfort  he  had  received, 
from  the  tidings  of  her  safe  arrival  in  the 
country  to  which  she  had  fled  with  her  chil- 
dren; observing  that  he  daily  pours  out  his 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  PLIGHT.        157 

soul  before  God,  to  thank  him  for  all  the  mer- 
cies and  favours  he  has  bestowed  upon  them 
all.  A  little  further,  after  having  exhorted 
her  to  offer  up  their  bodies  and  souls  to  God, 
as  a  reasonable  service,  and  a  living  sacrifice, 
holy  and  acceptable,  he  adds,  "  This  is  what 
I  daily  study  to  do.  I  can  truly  tell  you,  that 
there  pass  but  few  nights  but  I  water  my 
couch  with  my  tears.  I  do  not  say  this,  my 
beloved,  to  afflict  thee;  I  do,  on  the  contrary, 
imagine  that  this  news  may  afford  thee  matter 
of  joy,  and  a  holy  occasion  to  join  with  me  in 
blessing  God  for  it.  For  these  tears  are  not 
the  effect  of  worldly  sorrow,  which  bringeth 
forth  nothing  else  but  death.  They  proceed 
from  the  grace  of  God,  and  some  of  them  from 
that  godly  sorrow,  which  bringeth  forth  a 
repentance  unto  salvation,  not  to  be  repented 
of:  others,  from  the  joy  which  I  feel,  when  I 
consider,  with  admiration,  how  great  are  the 
mercies  and  favours  which  God  hath  bestowed 
upon  you  all,  and  upon  myself.  I  likewise 
reflect,  with  extreme  satisfaction,  upon  the 
sacrifice  which  thou  hast  offered  up  to  God,  of 
the  goods  which  he  had  given  to  thee  and  me. 
Thou  mightest  have  enjoyed  them,  if  thy 
14 


158  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

heart  had  been  turned  and  inclined  that  way; 
but  thou  hast  made  thee  a  treasure  of  them  in 
heaven,  where  rust  and  thieves  spoil  not. 
Thou  hast  esteemed  the  precious  liberty  of 
serving  God,  of  much  greater  worth  than  the 
riches  of  this  world.  Thou  hast,  like  Mary, 
chosen  the  good  part,  which  shall  not  be  taken 
from  thee*  With  all  the  powers  and  faculties 
of  my  soul,  I  praise  God,  who  hath  given  me 
a  truly  Christian  wife,  who  will  do  her  endea- 
vours, in  my  absence,  to  train  up  our  children 
as  Christians." 

His  continued  indisposition,  and  absolute 
inability  to  work,  occasioned  his  removal 
from  the  galley,  early  in  the  following  year, 
to  the  dungeon  where  the  remaining  five  years 
of  his  life  were  passed.  Here  he  was  so 
strictly  guarded  that  it  was  not  without  ex- 
treme difficulty  he  was  able  to  keep  up  any 
intercourse  with  those  beloved  beings  after 
whom  his  heart  yearned.  But  a  way  was 
foundj  from  time  to  time,  to  exchange  letters 
with  his  wife,  as  well  as  M.  Le  Fevre,  and 
some  others  of  his  fellow-sufferers: — and  thus 
was  the  long  course  of  his  solitary  captivity 
cheered,  as  much  as  earthly  solace  could  cheer; 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  PLIGHT.       159 

and  what  was  far,  far  better  for  the  mourner, 
the  never  failing  fountain  of  everlasting  con- 
solation was  still  nigh  at  hand,  and  he  was 
permitted  to  drink  freely  of  its  refreshing 
streams.  This  his  own  words  testify,  in  let- 
ters which  he  wrote  from  his  dark  prison- 
house,  and  which,  while  they  express  the 
most  affectionate  and  tender  feelings  for  his 
afflicted  wife,  clearly  evince  that  he  himself 
was  lifted  above  his  troubles,  by  the  abundant 
grace  vouchsafed  to  him  in  his  extremity. 
After  gently  chiding  her  for  troubling  herself 
at  his  condition,  to  such  a  degree  as  to  impair 
her  health,  he  says:  "It  is  not  above  two 
hours  ago  that  I  received  a  letter,  which  gives 
me  more  sorrow  than  joy.  I  received  it  when 
I  was  offering  up  my  evening  sacrifice  to  God 
on  the  Sabbath-day.  Thou  believest  that  I 
hide  the  condition  and  place  in  which  I  am 
from  thee;  but  I  have  much  more  reason  to 
believe  that-  thou  dost  conceal  thine  from  me. 
That  which  grieves  me  most  is,  that  you 
make  me  an  occasion  of  your  indisposition. 
If  it  is  I  that  put  the  sword  into  your  heart, 
then  do  I  very  innocently  stab  myself.  My 
spirit,  my  beloved,  is  too  deeply  engaged  to 


160  M.   DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

thine,   not  to  be   sensibly  affected   with  the 

evils  which  thou  sufferest     Be  not  disturbed 

at  this  new  cross  which  God  lays  upon  me  by 

thy  means.     Do   not  fear  it  will  injure  my 

health:    I    will  bear  it   with  the  submission 

which  I  owe  to  my  God  and  Father,  who  is 

full  of  tenderness  and  compassion  toward  me. 

Imitate  me  in  that,  my  dear  and  well-beloved 

widow  and  not  in  the  many  failings  which 

you  have  known  in   me.     Love  me  always 

tenderly,  as  thou  hast  done;  but  let  this  love 

be   always   regulated    by   divine   love;    that 

which  I  have  for  thee  is  never  separated  from 

it.     Although   I  daily  pour  out  my  soul  in 

praise  to  God,  for  the  singular  favour  he  hath 

done  me,  in  uniting  me  to  so  Christian  a  wife, 

yet  I  have  always  feared  you  did  not  receive 

with  submission  enough,   the  affliction  writh 

which  it  has  pleased  God  to  prove  us.     Let 

us  imitate  Eli,  and  say  with  him,  in  all  our 

sufferings,   '  It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  what 

seemeth  him  good.'     What  reason  have  you 

to  fear,  lest  evil  should  befall  me  ?  Dost  thou 

question  the  omnipotence  of  God?  Oughtest 

thou  to  imagine  that  God  will  desert  me  at 

last,  after  so  many  years  miraculous  preser- 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       161 

vation  ?  Even  though  I  should  lose  my  life  to 
preserve  my  fidelity  to  my  Saviour,  remem- 
ber he  has  said, '  Whosoever  will  save  his  lif$, 
shall  lose  it;  but  whosoever  will  lose  his  life 
for  my  sake,  shall  save  it.? 

"  I  must  now  satisfy  thy  curiosity.  I  have 
many  things  to  tell  that  I  cannot  mention 
without  disguise,  and  without  a  borrowed 
name.  May  the  Lord,  who  favours  us  in  so 
eminent  a  manner,  grant,  if  it  be  his  pleasure, 
that  no  inconvenience  may  happen  thereupon. 
But  I  desire  of  thee,  beforehand,  that  thou 
wilt  not  make  it  a  subject  of  affliction;  but 
take  occasion  thereby  to  bless  the  Lord.  The 
place  in  which  I  am,  served  formerly  for  a 
lodging  for  soldiers;  but,  since  that,  they 
have  converted  it  into  a  dungeon.  They 
have  made  so  much  alteration  in  it,  that  there 
is  not,  at  present,  sufficient  light  to  hinder  me 
from  bruising  myself  against  the  walls.  After 
I  had  been  here  three  weeks,  I  was  assailed 
by  so  many  inconveniences,  that  I  thought  I 
could  not  live  under  them  four  months  to  an 
end;  yet  it  will  be  five  years,  the  llth  of 
next  February,  that  God  has  preserved  me 
herein. 


162  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

"About  the  15th  of  October,  in  the  first 
year,  I  was  afflicted  with  a  painful  defluxion, 
which  fell  to  the  elbow  of  my  right  arm,  and 
shoulder.  I  could  not  undress  myself.  I 
spent  the  night  sometimes  upon  my  bed,  some- 
times walking  backwards  and  forwards,  in 
my  usual  darkness.  I  set  myself  to  reflect 
upon  the  occasion  of  my  disease,  and  conclud- 
ed that  it  proceeded  from  the  cold  and  mois- 
ture of  the  winter ;  and  that,  to  remedy  it,  I 
must  drink  my  wine  unmixed  with  water, 
which  I  did  for  two  days  following.  Perceiv- 
ing my  pains  increase,  I  took  the  contrary 
course,  and  drank  water.  Finding  mj^self 
well  after  it,  I  have  continued  it  ever  since. 
The  defluxion  I  am  speaking  of  continued 
near  a  year.  The  Lord  has  tried  me  with 
several  other  inconveniences,  but  he  has  de- 
livered me  out  of  them  all.  I  forgot,  my  love, 
to  give  thee  a  complete  description  of  my  lit- 
tle sanctuary;  that  is  ten  of  my  feet  in 
length  and  twelve  in  breadth.  I  lie  upon 
one  of  the  hospital  quilts,  with  a  straw  bed 
under  it;  and,  in  this  respect,  I  am  much  bet- 
ter than  in  the  galley.  This  is  the  fourth 
winter  that  I  have  spent  almost  without  fire. 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.        163 

The  first  of  these  winters,  I  had  none.  The 
second,  they  began  to  give  me  some  on  the 
28th  of  January,  and  took  it  away  from  me 
before  the  end  of  February.  The  third,  they 
gave  me  some  for  about  fifteen  days.  This 
winter  I  have  seen  none.  The  major  might 
give  me  some,  if  he  would,  for  he  has  money 
of  mine.  I  have  sensibly  felt  cold,  nakedness, 
and  hunger;  but  all  this,  I  thank  God,  is  passed 
and  gone.  I  have  lived  on  five  sols  a  day, 
which  is  the  subsistence  the  king  has  appoint- 
ed me.  At  first,  I  was  fed  by  an  ordinary, 
who  treated  me  very  well  for  my  five  sols. 
But  another,  who  succeeded  him,  fed  me  for 
five  months,  and  cut  me  off,  daily,  three  sols 
in  my  food.  The  major,  at  length,  undertook 
to  feed  me  in  his  turn,  which  he  did  at  first 
very  well;  but,  at  length,  he  left  off  to  do 
well.  He  opens  my  dungeon  but  once  a  day; 
and  hath  caused  my  dinner,  several  times,  to 
be  brought  at  nine,  ten,  and  eleven  o'clock  at 
night;  and  I  did  not  receive  any  bread  from 
him,  once,  for  the  space  of  three  days,  and  at 
other  times,  twice  in  twenty-four  hours.  Per- 
haps it  was  by  this  sparing  manner  of  being 
fed,  that  the  sovereign  Physician  of  my  body 


164  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

and  soul  preserved  my  health.  Beware,  there- 
fore, of  falling  into  regret,  whereas  you  ought 
to  bless  God  for  his  merciful  conduct  towards 
me.  I  have  just  told  you  that  I  have  suffered 
nakedness.  I  have  heen  almost  a  year  with- 
out shirts.  My  clothes  are  more  torn  and 
ragged  than  those  of  the  beggars  that  stand  at 
the  church  doors.  I  have  gone  barefoot  till 
the  15th  of  December:  I  say  barefoot,  for 
I  have  had  stockings  which  have  no  feet,  and 
a  pair  of  old  shoes,  unsowed  on  both  sides  and 
bored  through  the  soles.  An  intendant,  who 
came  into  this  city  three  years  ago,  and  saw 
me  in  this  magnificent  dress;  and  though  he 
promised  me  much,  yet  he  left  me  ten  months 
in  this  condition,  at  the  end  of  which,  God 
raised  me  up  succour  which  there  was  no 
room  to  expect.  He  put  it  into  the  heart  of 
a  very  charitable  and  pious  person,  the  almo- 
ner of  the  citadel  to  visit  me.  This  was  no 
doubt,  done  by  permission  of  the  king's  lieu- 
tenant, who  is  likewise  very  charitable;  and 
having  seen  me  in  the  miserable  condition  I 
was,  he  went  out  immediately  to  fetch  me 
some  of  his  linen;  but  I  hindered  him.  But 
at  length  he  did  so  well  solicit  for  me,  that  he 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.        165 

procured  me  a  whole  galley-slave's  suit;  and 
obliged  the  major  to  give  me  a  pair  of  shoes, 
&c.,  out  of  my  own  money.  So  that,  by  the 
interposition  of  this  good  person,  I  am  better 
clothed  than  I  have  been  in  all  my  captivity. 
He  procured  for  me  also  a  most  notable  ad- 
vantage, which  is,  that  for  this  last  year  and 
a  half,  the  king's  lieutenant  gives  me,  every 
day,  a  lampful  of  oil,  which  affords  me  light 
for  six,  seven  or  eight  hours.  This  gives  me 
an  opportunity  of  reading  the  Holy  Scriptures 
more  than  I  did  before;  for  they  gave  me  but  a 
little  candle  for  a  liard  a  day.  I  have  been 
troubled  with  oppression  of  the  lungs,  and 
also  with  giddiness,  and  have  fallen  down  so 
as  to  hurt  my  head.  The  giddiness  I  impu- 
ted to  going  too  long  without  food.  But  I  am 
just  now,  by  the  goodness  of  God,  in  more 
perfect  health  than  for  these  forty  years.  I 
speak,  my  dear,  sincerely,  as  in  the  presence 
of  God.  Within  these  three  months  they 
have  given  me  three  little  loaves  a  day,  and 
some  soup;  since  which  time  my  head  is  al- 
most settled,  and  I  sleep  much  better,  and 
my  giddiness  is  almost  over.  After  the  com- 
fortable news  I  tell  you,  think  no  more  but  to 


166  M.  DE  MAROLLES,  THE 

rejoice  at  it,  and  to  praise  God  for  it;  and  la- 
bour after  thine  own  health,  as  that  will  con- 
tribute to  mine.  This  I  conjure  you  in  the 
name  of  God;  and  let  not  your  suspicions 
any  more  trouble  the  rest  and  satisfaction  I 
find  in  his  favour." 

A  letter,  dated  on  the  24th  of  March,  1692, 
nearly  three  months  before  his  death,  appears 
to  be  the  last  written  by  him.  From  that  time 
he  seems  to  have  declined,  more  and  more,  in 
health,  as  far  as  the  secrets  of  his  prison-house 
have  been  disclosed;  and,  on  the  17th  of  June 
following,  resigned  his  spirit  into  the  hands  of 
his  Maker.  In  the  letter  to  which  we  have 
referred,  he  repeats  his  exhortations  to  his 
beloved  wife,  not  to  disquiet  herself  about 
him;  but  to  hope  always  in  the  goodness  of 
God,  who  had  delivered  him  out  of  so  many 
troubles,  and  will  still  deliver.  "  God/'  he 
says,  "  hath  filled  my  heart  with  joy.  I  pos- 
sess my  soul  in  patience.  Thus  he  makes  the 
days  of  my  affliction  pass  speedily  away. 
With  the  bread  and  water  of  affliction,  with 
which  he  tries  me,  he  affords  me  continually 
delicious  repasts." 

Such  were  the  notes  of  thanksgiving  that 


EXILE  ARRESTED  IN  HIS  FLIGHT.       167 

issued  from  the  cell  of  the  captive,  at  the  mo- 
ment when,  worn  down  by  suffering,  his  steps 
were  rapidly  approaching  the  borders  of  the 
grave.  To  such  a  man,  under  such  circum- 
stances, death  was,  indeed,  no  king  of  terrors, 
but  a  welcome  messenger  of  mercy.  It  came 
to  him  in  his  low  dungeon,  where  he  chanted 
the  praises  of  his  God,  as  the  angel  who  visited 
Paul  and  Silas  in  their  bonds,  to  open  the 
prison-door,  and  unloose  the  fetters  the  hand 
of  oppression  had  fastened  on  him.  But  it 
needed  not  for  him,  as  for  the  apostolic  suf- 
ferers, that  the  jailor  should  have  compassion 
on  him,  washing  his  wounds:  they  were  all 
healed.  There  was  henceforth,  for  him,  no 
pain,  nor  sickness,  nor  sorrow.  He  who,  as 
seen  in  the  apocalyptic  vision,  "  holdeth  the 
seven  stars  in  his  hand,  and  walketh  in  the 
midst  of  the  seven  golden  candlesticks,"  hath 
before  hand  pronounced  the  sentence  of  such 
a  devoted  and  persevering  martyr:  "  Fear  none 
of  those  things  which  thou  shalt  suffer.  Be 
thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I  will  give  thee  a 
crown  of  life." — Rev.  ii.  10. 


168 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  TOULOUSE. 


THE  fatal  effects  of  the  Decree  of  Revoca- 
tion did  not  terminate  with  the  reign  of  the 
monarch  under  whose  sanction  it  had  been 
promulgated.  After  a  long  career,  darkly 
clouded  at  its  close,  Louis  XIV.  died,  in  1715. 
Thirty  years  of  persecution  had  then  passed 
over  the  heads  of  the  Protestants  of  France, 
and  they  were  still  left  as  a  prey  to  the  des- 
troyer. Many  instances  of  martyrdom  occur- 
red long  after  that  period,  especially  in  the 
southern  provinces.  One  of  these  appalling 
events  took  place  at  Toulouse,  in  1762.  The 
circumstances  attending  it  are  related  by  an 
eye-witness,  in  a  letter  writtea  to  a  friend,  a 
day  or  two  after  the  execution.  The  victims 
were  men  who  excited  particular  interest, 
from  their  character  and  from  their  station  in 
life.  They  were  four  in  number:  M.  Rochette, 
a  devoted  young  minister,  and  three  young 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    TOULOUSE.  169 

men  of  rank,  the  Messieurs  Grenier,  who  were 
brothers,  and  particular  friends  of  the  clergy- 
man. They  had  all  been  detained  in  prison 
several  months;  and,  on  the  17th  of  February, 
they  were  tried  before  the  two  chambers  of 
the  parliament  of  Toulouse,  and  condemned 
to  death: — the  minister  to  be  hung,  and  the 
three  brothers  to  be  beheaded.  Two  days 
after,  the  cruel  sentence  was  executed;  and 
these  men  were  added  to  the  number  of  those 
who  have  not  counted  their  lives  dear,  when 
the  cause  of  their  Redeemer  required  the 
sacrifice: 

"  The  thousands  that,  uncheer'd  by  praise, 
Have  made  one  offering  of  their  days, 
For  truth — for  heaven — for  freedom's  sake, 
Resigned,  the  bitter  cup  to  take, 
And  silently,  in  fearless  faith, 
Bowing  their  noble  souls  in  death." 

"  Yesterday,"  says  the  writer  to  whom  we 
have  alluded,  "  the  prisoners  were  executed. 
All  the  martyrs  behaved  with  invincible  con- 
stancy and  firmness  of  mind,  attended  with  a 
certain  cheerfulness  and  serenity,  calculated  to 
excite  the  highest  admiration.  They  finished 
their  days  like  true  saints  and  Christian  heroes. 
15 


170         THE    MARTYRS    OP   TOULOUSE. 

As  soon  as  they  heard  their  sentence  read, 
they  beheld  each  other  steadfastly,  and  said, 
6  Let  us  then  die,  since  things  are  so;  and  let 
us  pray  God  to  accept  the  sacrifice  of  our 
lives,  that  we  are  now  to  make,  for  Him  and  for 
the  truth?  Upon  which,  M.  Rochette  prayed 
aloud,  in  a  most  pathetic  manner.  They  then 
embraced  two  fellow-prisoners,  who  were  con- 
demned to  the  galleys;  and  affectionately  con- 
gratulated another,  who  had  been  set  at  liberty. 
In  all  their  conduct,  they  seemed  full  of  the 
Spirit  of  God.  Monsieur  Billos,  one  of  the 
secretaries,  who  was  present  at  the  first  scene 
of  their  trial,  never  speaks  of  it  without  shed- 
ding tears.  The  martyrs  were  next  commit- 
ted to  the  care  of  the  four  principal  cures, 
whom  the  attorney-general  sent  to  attempt 
their  conversion.  But  the  expostulations  of 
these  ecclesiastics  produced  as  little  effect  as 
those  of  the  Abbe  Couterai,  who  had  been  in 
prison  every  day,  during  three  months;  and 
had  been  often  empowered,  by  the  magistrates, 
to  offer  them  their  lives  and  their  liberty,  on 
condition  of  their  embracing  the  Romish  reli- 
gion: an  offer  which  they  rejected  without 
hesitation.  M.  Rochette  begged  of  these 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    TOULOUSE.         171 

ecclesiastics,  that  they  would  put  an  end  to 
their  useless  importunities,  and  not  continue 
to  trouble  him  and  his  friends  in  their  last 
moments,  but  suffer  them  to  die  in  peace;  ex- 
pressing, at  the  same  time,  his  grateful  sense 
of  their  well-meant  zeal.  One  of  the  cures 
threatened  him  and  his  companions  with  dam- 
nation: upon  which,  the  worthy  minister, 
with  his  usual  serenity,  replied,  '  that  they 
were  going  to  appear  before  a  more  equitable 
Judge,  who  shed  his  blood  for  their  salvation: 
at  the  same  time  exhorting  his  fellow-martyrs 
to  fortitude  and  perseverance.  When  the 
curts  interrupted  him  with  accusations  of 
heresy,  and  with  pompous  discourses  about 
the  power  of  granting  remission  of  sins,  which 
was  lodged  in  the  church,  he  told  them  that 
the  Protestant  religion  acknowledged  no  such 
power,  nor  looked  for  the  pardon  of  sins  from 
any  other  source  but  the  mercy  of  God,  in 
Jesus  Christ. 

"  Being,  about  two  o'clock,  delivered  from 
the  importunity  of  the  priests,  the  pious  mar- 
tyrs spent  these  precious  moments  in  prayer 
and  praise  to  God,  who  enabled  them  to 
behold  death  without  terror;  and  encouraged 


172          THE    MARTYRS    OF    TOULOUSE. 

each  other  to  persevere  unto  the  end.  So 
calm  and  undisturbed  was  the  state  of  their 
minds,  that  they  did  not  shed  a  single  tear. 
This  was  not  the  case  with  the  spectators  of 
this  moving  scene:  while  these  good  men 
thanked  the  sentinels  and  keepers  of  the 
prison  for  the  kind  treatment  they  had  expe- 
rienced from  them,  and  asked  pardon  if  they 
had  given  them  any  offence,  the  latter  burst 
into  tears.  The  minister,  perceiving  one  of 
the  soldiers  weeping  more  bitterly  than  the 
rest,  addressed  him  thus:  'My  good  friend, 
are  you  not  ready  and  willing  to  die  for  your 
king?  Why  then  do  you  pity  me,  who  am 
going  to  death  for  God  ?' 

"  The  priests  returned  about  one  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon,  and  were  entreated  to  retire, 
but  to  no  purpose.  One  of  them  said,  '  It  is 
from  a  concern  for  your  salvation  that  we  come 
here/  Upon  which,  the  youngest  of  the 
three  brothers  replied,  <  If  you  were  at  Ge- 
neva, at  the  point  of  death  from  disease,  (for 
there  nobody  is  put  to  death  on  account  of 
religion,)  would  you  choose  to  be  teazed  and 
importuned,  in  your  last  moments,  by  four  or 
five  Protestant  ministers,  under  the  pretence 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  TOULOUSE.     173 

of  zeal  for  your  salvation  ?  Do,  therefore,  as 
you  would  be  done  unto.'  This  mild  remon- 
strance was  insufficient  to  put  an  end  to  the 
vain  attempts  of  these  blind  zealots,  who,  each 
furnished  with  a  crucifix,  which  they  pre- 
sented, from  time  to  time,  to  the  prisoners, 
continued  to  perplex  them  in  the  most  offen- 
sive manner. 

"<  Speak/  said  one  of  the  noblemen,  <  of 
Him  who  died  for  our  sins,  and  rose  again  for 
our  justification,  and  we  will  listen  to  you; 
but  do  not  trouble  us  with  your  vain  super- 
stitions/ 

"About  two  o'clock,  the  martyrs  were  led 
out  of  the  prison,  and  placed  in  a  wagon  with 
the  four  cures,  and  thus  they  were  conducted 
to  the  gate  of  the  cathedral.  Here  the  minis- 
ter was  desired  to  step  out  of  the  wagon,  and 
to  ask  pardon  of  God,  the  king,  and  the  law, 
in  that  he  had  wickedly  persevered  in  per- 
forming the  functions  of  his  religion,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  royal  edicts.  This  he  twice 
refused  to  do.  He  was  told  that  this  was  no 
more  than  a  formality.  To  which  he  an- 
swered, 'that  he  neither  would  acknowledge, 
or  submit  to,  any  formality  that  was  contrary 
15* 


174  THE  MARTYRS  OF  TOULOUSE. 

to  the  dictates  of  his  conscience/  At  length, 
however,  being  obliged,  by  force  and  violent 
treatment,  to  leave  the  wagon,  he  fell  on  his 
knees,  and  expressed  himself  thus:  '  I  humbly 
ask  of  Almighty  God  the  pardon  of  all  my 
sins,  in  the  full  persuasion  of  obtaining  the 
remission  of  them,  through  the  blood  of 
Christ.  With  respect  to  the  king,  I  have  no 
pardon  to  ask  of  him,  having  never  offended 
him.  I  always  honoured  and  loved  him,  as 
the  father  of  my  country.  I  always  have 
been  to  him  a  good  and  faithful  subject;  and, 
of  this,  my  judges  themselves  appeared  to  be 
fully  convinced.  I  always  recommended  to 
my  flock,  patience,  obedience,  and  submission. 
If  I  have  acted  in  opposition  to  the  laws  that 
prohibited  our  religious  assemblies,  I  did  this 
in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  Him  who  is  the 
King  of  kings.  With  respect  to  public  jus- 
tice, I  have  nothing  to  say,  but  this,  that  I 
never  offended  it;  and  I  most  earnestly  pray 
that  God  will  vouchsafe  to  pardon  my  judges/ 
"  This  was  the  only  confession  that  the  offi- 
cers of  justice,  after  much  importunity,  could 
obtain  from  M.  Rochette.  No  such  acknow- 
ledgment was  required  of  the  three  noblemen 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  TOULOUSE.  175 

who  suffered  with  him,  as,  by  the  laws  of 
France,  it  is  never  demanded  of  such  as  are 
beheaded.  They  were,  however,  conducted 
with  M.  Rochette  to  the  place  of  execution. 
The  place  usually  appointed  for  the  execution 
of  criminals  was  not  chosen  upon  this  occa- 
sion; one  less  spacious  was  appointed,  that 
this  glorious  instance  of  martyrdom  might 
have  the  fewer  spectators.  All  the  streets 
which  led  to  it  were  lined  with  soldiers,  and 
that  on  account  of  the  pretended  apprehen- 
sion of  a  rescue.  But  this  they  could  only 
fear  from  the  Roman  Catholics,  (on  whom  the 
shedding,  thus  deliberately,  the  blood  of  the 
innocent,  seemed  to  make  a  living  impres- 
sion,) for  the  small  number  of  Protestant 
families  in  this  city,  filled  with  consternation 
at  this  unrighteous  sentence,  had  shut  them- 
selves up  in  their  houses,  where  they  were 
wholly  employed  in  sending  up  their  prayers 
and  lamentations  to  Heaven,  while  this  terri- 
ble scene  was  transacting. 

"  In  the  streets  which  led  to  the  place  of 
execution,  the  windows  were  hired  at  very 
high  prices.  Wherever  the  martyrs  passed, 
they  were  attended  with  the  tears  and  lamen- 


176  THE  MARTYRS  OP  TOULOUSE. 

tations  of  the  spectators.  One  would  have 
thought,  by  the  expressions  of  sorrow,  that 
Toulouse  was,  all  on  a  sudden,  become  a  Pro- 
testant city. 

"  The  cure  of  Faur  could  not  bear  the  affect- 
ing spectacle:  yielding  to  the  power  of  sym- 
pathy, and  perhaps  of  conscience,  he  fainted 
away;  and  one  of  his  vicars  was  sent  to  supply 
his  place. 

"  The  circumstance  that  was  most  affecting, 
and  which  made  every  eye  melt  with  tears, 
was  the  inexpressible  serenity  that  appeared 
in  the  countenance  of  the  clergyman.  His 
graceful  mien,  the  resignation  and  fortitude  he 
evinced,  his  blooming  youth,  in  short,  every 
thing  in  his  conduct,  character,  and  appear- 
ance, interested  all  ranks  of  people  in  his 
favour,  and  rendered  his  fate  the  subject  of 
universal  grief.  This  grief  was  augmented 
by  one  particular  circumstance;  it  being  gene- 
rally known  that  M.  Rochette  might  have 
saved  his  life  by  an  untruth;  but  refused  to 
retain  it  at  so  dear  a  rate.  For,  as  his  being  a 
minister  was  the  crime  he  stood  charged  with, 
and  as  there  were  no  complaints  made  against 
him,  no  advertisements  describing  his  person, 


THE  MARTYRS  OF  TOULOUSE.  177 

nor  any  witness  to  prove  his  pastoral  character, 
he  had  only  to  deny  his  being  a  minister,  and 
his  life  would  have  been  saved.  But  he  chose 
rather  to  lose  his  life  than  to  deny  his  pro- 
fession. 

"  He  was  executed  the  first  of  the  four:  and, 
in  the  face  of  death,  he  exhorted  his  compa- 
nions, and  sang  those  sublime  verses  of  the 
11 8th  Psalm: 

'  This  is  the  day  which  the  Lord  hath  made; 

We  will  rejoice  and  be  glad  in  it. 

God  is  the  Lord  who  hath  showed  us  light : 

Bind  the  sacrifice  with  cords,  even  to  the  horns  of  the  altar. 

Thou  art  my  God,  and  I  will  praise  thee ; 
Thou  art  my  God,  and  I  will  exalt  thee. 
O,  give  thanks  unto  the  Lord,  for  he  is  good ; 
For  his  mercy  endureth  for  ever.' 

"  When  the  executioner,  among  others,  con- 
jured him  to  die  a  Roman  Catholic,  the 
minister  answered  him  in  this  gentle  manner: 
'  Judge,  friend,  which  is  the  best  religion,  that 
which  persecutes,  or  that  which  is  persecuted/ 
He  added,  that  his  grandfather  and  one  of  his 
uncles  had  died  for  the  pure  religion  of  the 
gospel,  and  that  he  should  be  the  third  martyr 
of  his  family. 


178         THE    MARTYRS    OP    TOULOUSE. 

"  Two  of  the  three  gentlemen  who  suffered 
with  him,  beheld  him  tied  to  the  gibbet  with 
wonderful  intrepidity;  but  the  third  covered 
his  eyes  with  his  hand,  that  he  might  not  wit- 
ness so  horrible  a  spectacle. 

"  The  commissioners  of  the  parliament,  and 
the  deputies  of  the  courts  of  justice,  discover- 
ed, by  their  pensive  looks  and  downcast  eyes, 
how  deeply  they  were  affected  on  the  occa- 
sion. The  three  brothers  tenderly  embraced 
each  other,  and  mutually  recommended  their 
departing  souls  to  the  Father  of  spirits.  Their 
heads  were  struck  off  at  three  blows.  When 
the  scene  was  finished,  the  spectators  returned 
to  their  homes  in  solemn  silence,  scarcely  able 
to  persuade  themselves  that  the  world  could 
present  such  a  spectacle  of  magnanimity,  and 
such  an  instance  of  cruelty  as  they  had  just 
witnessed." 

Such  is  the  affecting  narrative  of  the  last 
scene  in  the  lives  of  these  devoted  men,  heroes 
of  the  faith,  and  true  soldiers  of  Christ,  who 
fainted  not  in  the  day  of  battle.  Blessed  is 
that  church,  however  persecuted,  which  has 
such  faithful  and  devoted  ministers;  and  high- 
ly honoured  the  land,  whose  nobles  are  filled 


THE    MARTYRS    OF    TOULOUSE.          179 

with  such  a  spirit:  their  record  is  on  high, 
though  their  names  may  be  unknown  on  earth. 

'*  The  kings  of  old  have  shrine  and  tomb, 
In  many  a  minster's  haughty  gloom ; 
And  green,  along  the  ocean's  side, 
The  mounds  arise  where  heroes  died : 
But  show  me,  on  thy  flowery  breast, 
Earth,  where  thy  hidden  martyrs  rest ! 

The  still,  sad  glory  of  their  name 
Hallows  no  mountain  into  fame; 
No,  not  a  tree  the  record  bears, 
Of  their  deep  thoughts  and  lonely  prayers. 
So  let  it  be !  like  him  whose  clay 
Deep  buried  by  his  Maker  lay, 
They  sleep  in  secret ;  but  their  sod, 
Unknown  to  man,  is  marked  of  God." 


180 


THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 


WALDENSES    OF    THE    PIEMONT    VALLEYS. 


AMONG  the  sufferers  in  this  cause,  were  mul- 
titudes of  the  Waldenses,  or  Vaudois.  (See 
Appendix,  Note  3.)  These  interesting  people 
were  the  descendants  of  that  apostolic  church, 
planted  in  the  Piemontese  Alps,  at  an  early 
period  of  the  Christian  era,  and  preserved, 
through  the  dark  ages,  uncontaminated  by  the 
errors  of  the  church  of  Rome.  She  could 
not,  with  any  justice,  term  them  pretendu 
reforme,  for  they  were  not,  like  other  Protes- 
tants, dissenters  from  her  communion,  who 
sought  to  reform  that  which  had  been  so 
wofully  marred  by  her  idolatry  and  supersti- 
tion; they  were  the  remains  of  a  pure,  evan- 


THE    WALDENSES    OP    PIEMONT.         181 

gelical  church,  which  existed  long  before  the 
church  of  Rome  was  in  being.* 

Buried  in  the  seclusion  of  their  own  remote 
valleys,  and  hemmed  in  by  almost  inaccessi- 
ble mountains,  they  were  long  little  known  to 
the  rest  of  Europe,  A  lowly  and  unambitious 
race,  they  lived  in  almost  patriarchal  habits  of 
pastoral  simplicity,  content  to  feed  their  flocks 
and  herds,  and  occupy  themselves  in  the  hum- 
blest callings:  yet,  ever  and  anon,  a  voice  was 
heard  from  amid  their  Alpine  recesses,  pro- 
testing against  the  enormities  of  the  church  of 
Rome,  and  avowing  the  determination  of  the 
mountaineers  to  remain  firm  in  the  faith  which 
their  ancestors  had  professed  from  time  imme- 
morial. 

Their  firmness  did  not  fail  to  bring  down 
on  them  the  wrath  and  indignation  of  the 
power  they  had  so  courageously  opposed. 

*  "  Long  before  the  church  of  Rome,  (that  new  sect,  as 
Claude,  Bishop  of  Turin,  in  840,  called  it,)  stretched  forth 
its  arms  to  stifle,  in  its  Antoean  embrace,  the  independent 
flocks  of  the  Great  Shepherd,  the  ancestors  of  the  Wal- 
denses  were  worshipping  God  in  the  hill  countries  of  Pie- 
mont,  as  their  posterity  now  worship  him." — GILLY.— 
(See  Appendix,  Note  4.) 

16 


182    THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

Many  edicts  were  issued,  aiming  at  the  over- 
throw and  complete  destruction  of  the  Wal- 
denses.  So  cruel  were  the  persecutions  ex- 
cited against  them,  by  their  enemies  of  the 
Latin  church,  that  it  has  been  forcibly  said, 
"the  lintels  of  the  Vatican  were  sprinkled 
with  the  blood  of  the  Waldenses."  They  were 
afflicted  and  oppressed,  chased  from  one  re- 
treat to  another,  and  harassed  by  a  succession 
of  tyrannical  laws,  all  intended  to  trample 
them  in  the  dust.  But  this  daughter  of  the 
primitive  church,  though  her  head  was  bowed 
down,  and  she  was  tossed  with  tempests,  was 
not  thus  to  be  destroyed  by  her  adversaries. 
This  "  little  lamp,  kept  alive,  and  shining 
through  the  middle  ages,"  as  Gilly  beautifully 
expresses  it,  was  not  to  be  extinguished  by 
the  blast  of  persecution.  Again  and  again 
were  the  Waldenses  enabled  to  withstand  the 
most  formidable  attacks  of  their  enemies,  and 
after  much  suffering,  and  loss  of  life  and  pro- 
perty, permitted  to  come  forth,  once  more, 
from  their  rocky  fastnesses,  and  return  to  their 
homes  in  the  valleys.  No  less  than  sixty- 
eight  severe  enactments  were  put  in  force 
against  them,  between  the  years  1561  and 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.       183 

1686.  Extermination  was  the  aim  of  the  op- 
pressors, and  they  did  indeed  cruelly  waste 
and  destroy  life  and  property;  but  a  little 
remnant  still  remained,  which  their  utmost 
efforts  could  not  subdue.  "Blind  must  he 
be,"  observes  Mr.  Gilly,  "  who  does  not  dis- 
cern the  finger  of  God  in  the  preservation  of 
the  Vaudois.  There  is  nothing  like  it  in  the 
history  of  man.  The  tempest  of  persecution 
has  raged  against  them  for  seven  hundred 
years,  and  yet  it  has  not  swept  them  away; 
but  there  they  are,  in  the  land  of  their  fore- 
fathers, because  the  Most  High  gave  unto  the 
men  of  the  valley  stout  hearts  and  a  resolute 
spirit;  because  he  made  them  patient  of  hun- 
ger, and  thirst,  and  nakedness,  and  all  manner 
of  affliction.  How  could  a  handful  of  moun- 
taineers escape  from  the  vengeance  that  threat- 
ened their  total  overthrow,  and  achieved  the 
downfall  of  their  brethren  in  other  parts?  Be- 
cause  it  was  the  will  of  God  that  they  should 
be  left  as  a  remnant; — because  it  was  written 
in  the  counsels  of  heaven,  that  they  should 
continue  a  miracle  of  Divine  grace  and  provi- 
dence." Such  were  the  inhabitants  of  the 
hill  country  of  Piemont 


184    THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

Deep  hid  within  the  Alpine  vale, 
Their  flocks  Waldensian  shepherds  fed ; 
Or  breasting  many  a  stormy  gale, 
Along  the  mountain-heights  they  sped : 
Fearless,  where  all  would  fear  beside, 
Scaled  the  steep  cliff,  or  stemmed  the  tide ; 
Seeking,  on  high,  the  eagle's  nest, 
Or  the  wild  chamois'  place  of  rest. 

Men  of  the  valleys — far  away, 
In  sheep-cotes  and  in  vineyards  found ; 
Though  left  'mid  savage  wilds  to  stray, 
How  were  your  days  with  blessings  crowned! 
What  joy  your  lowly  spirits  filled ! 
For  He  whose  word  the  tempest  stilled, 
Poured  peace  upon  the  shepherd's  breast, 
And  gave  unto  the  weary  rest. 

The  erring  world  in  darkness  slept, 
And  bade  the  light  no  longer  shine ; 
But  still  your  fathers'  faith  ye  kept, 
And  light  was  on  your  mountaki  shrine, 
Still  burnt  the  lamp's  undying  flame, 
Though  fierce  and  fearful  tempests  came  ; 
The  angel  of  the  Lord  was  nigh, 
Tempering  each  blast  that  hurried  by. 

Sons  of  the  valley — sainted  band, 
When  men  to  Baal  bowed  the  knee, 
Ye  'gainst  the  mighty  made  a  stand, 
Unquailing  met  the  stern  decree, 
The  banner  of  the  cross  unfurled, 
And  bore  it  'mid  the  opposing  world 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.      185 

Faithful  among  the  faithless  found ; 
Your  home  a  spot  of  hallowed  ground. 

Thus,  at  a  period  when  the  fatal  influence 
of  the  church  of  Rome  seemed  fast  spreading 
over  the  whole  of  Christendom,  and  the  kings 
of  the  earth,  drank  freely  of  the  cup  of  her 
abominations,  there  was  a  simple  and  obscure 
people  for  whom  she  mingled  her  spiced  wine 
in  vain.  They  turned  away  from  her  tempta- 
tions to  drink  the  pure  water  of  truth,  at  that 
fountain-head,  from  whence  it  had  flowed 
down  to  their  fathers,  from  the  apostolic  age. 

Some  mournful  and  desponding  servant  of 
the  Lord,  who  saw  himself  surrounded  by 
multitudes,  led  astray  by  the  pomp  and  glare 
of  Roman  Catholic  worship,  and  the  sophis- 
try of  her  priests,  might,  perhaps,  have  been 
ready  to  say  with  the  prophet,  "  I  only  am 
left  of  those  who  follow  thee  in  the  faith  of 
their  fathers." 

What  would  have  been  the  joy  of  such  a 
one,  could  he  have  been  transported  to  these 
valleys,  and  there  beheld,  in  the  annual  synod 
of  the  Waldensian  pastors,  a  strong  evidence 
that  there  were  still  many  who  were  firm  in 

their  allegiance  to  a  purer  faith!     How  would 
16* 


186    THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

his  heart  have  glowed  within  him,  could  he 
have  united  in  the  prayers  of  these  apostolic 
men,  and  sat  among  them,  while  they  took 
counsel  together!  These  assemblies  were 
usually  held  in  autumn;  but  in  times  of  perse- 
cution they  were  deferred  till  the  depth  of 
winter,  in  order  that  the  snows,  rendering 
their  retreats  almost  inaccessible,  might  se- 
cure them  from  the  observation  of  their  watch- 
ful enettiies.  Here  they  not  only  appointed 
to  their  stations  those  who  were  to  labour  in 
the  seclusion  of  their  native  valley,  but  also 
selected  those  whose  office  it  was  to  go  into 
other  countries,  to  visit  their  brethren,  scat- 
tered up  and  down  in  various  lands,  who 
were  unable  to  obtain  pastors  from  any  other 
quarter. 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  the  most  imposing 
scenes  of  nature  that  the  Waldensian  pastors 
met  for  these  holy  purposes.  In  the  place  of 
splendid  edifices  and  the  magnificent  works  of 
man,  they  had  the  eternal  hills  around  them, 
and  scenes  of  grandeur  and  sublimity  beyond 
the  reach  of  art.  Unmindful  of  the  evils 
which  surrounded  them,  and  braving  persecu- 
tion, reproach,  and  death,  they  sent  out  from 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OP  PIEMONT.        187 

these  synods,  messengers  whose  feet  were 
"  beautiful  upon  the  mountains,"  to  preach  the 
glad  tidings  of  the  Gospel,  and  publish  peace 
in  distant  lands.  And  these  missionaries  went 
forth  to  do  their  Master's  work,  as  sheep 
in  the  midst  of  wolves,  not  knowing  what 
might  befall  them;  but  sure  that,  in  all  places, 
the  promise  of  the  Good  Shepherd  of  Israel 
would  be  verified :  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  to 
the  end  of  the  world. " 

Thus  was  the  torch  of  truth,  kindled  at  the 
mountain-altar  of  the  Vaudois,  carried  into 
every  part  of  Europe;  and,  long  before  the 
light  of  the  Reformation  arose,  here  and  there 
the  rays  of  this  church  of  the  wilderness  were 
secretly  gladdening  the  dark  places  of  the 
earth.  When  the  Reformation  burst  forth, 
like  a  glorious  sun,  the  scattered  beams  of  this 
primitive  lamp  were  scarcely  discernible;  and 
all  united  in  hailing  the  dawn  of  that  day  of 
fresh  illumination.  The  light  spread;  and,  by 
and  by,  it  was  forgotten  that,  in  the  midst  of 
contumely  and  reproach,  the  fathers  of  the 
Alpine  church  had  watched  by  the  altar, 
through  the  night  of  superstition.  It  was  for- 
gotten that,  while  others,  like  the  church  of 


188    THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

Ephesus,  had  fallen  and  left  their  first  love, 
they  had  laboured  and  not  fainted,  been  tried 
and  found  faithful  unto  death;  and  therefore 
their  candlestick  was  not  removed  out  of  its 
place.  It  was  forgotten  that,  in  their  firm 
adherence  to  the  faith  of  their  fathers,  they 
had  left  behind  them  a  wonderful  and  deeply 
interesting  proof,  that  a  church,  uncorrupted 
by  the  errors  of  papacy,  has  ever  continued  to 
exist  in  Europe,  from  the  time  the  light  of 
gospel  truth  first  shone  upon  it.  This  proof, 
the  Roman  Catholics  would  gladly  take  from 
us,  if  they  could;  but  we  will  not  relinquish 
that  which,  more  than  any  other  argument, 
overthrows  their  claim  to  the  universality  of 
their  church  in  past  ages.  Surely,  every  Pro- 
testant owes  a  debt  to  the  Vaudois:  a  debt, 
which  he  who  has  neither  silver  nor  gold  may 
repay,  by  fervent  prayer  for  the  still  oppressed 
and  feeble  remnant  of  this  church;  and  which 
he  who  has  wealth  and  influence  may  dis- 
charge, in  many  ways,  by  pleading  their 
cause,  and  contributing,  so  far  as  in  him  lies, 
towards  the  supply  of  their  necessities,  tem- 
poral and  spiritual.* 

*  Their  countryman,  Count  del  Pozzo,  has  pleaded  their 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.      189 

"  Remember,"  said  the  late  moderator, 
Peyrani,  to  some  English  visiters,  "  Remem- 
ber that  you  are  indebted  to  us  for  your  eman- 
cipation from  papal  thraldom.  We  led  the 
way.  We  stood  in  the  front  rank;  and 
against  us  the  first  thunderbolts  of  Rome  were 
fulminated.  The  baying  of  the  blood-hounds 
of  the  inquisition  was  heard  in  our  valleys, 
before  you  knew  its  name.  They  hunted 
down  some  of  our  ancestors,  and  pursued 
others  from  glen  to  glen,  and  over  rock  and 
mountain,  till  they  obliged  them  to  take  refuge 
in  foreign  countries.  A  few  of  these  wan- 
derers penetrated  as  far  as  Languedoc;  and 
from  them  was  derived  the  Albigenses,  or 
heretics  of  Albi.  The  province  of  Guienne 
afforded  shelter  to  the  persecuted  Albigenses. 
Guienne  was  then  in  your  possession.  From 
an  English  province,  our  doctrines  found 

cause  in  a  work  entitled,  "  The  complete  Emancipation  of 
the  Protestant  Vaudois  advocated."  In  this  work  he 
states,  that  no  Protestants  now  exist  in  Europe,  in  so 
degraded  a  condition  as  the  Vaudois. 

For  a  fuller  detail  of  the  present  depressed  state  of  the 
Vaudois,  and  their  many  claims  on  us,  see  Mr.  Gilly's 
admirable  work,  "Waldensian  Researches."  Published 
1831. 


190    THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

their  way  into  England;  and  your  Wickliffe 
preached  nothing  more  than  what  had  been 
advanced  by  the  ministers  of  our  valleys,  four 
hundred  years  before." 

Such  are  the  peculiar  claims  of  the  Wal- 
denses  to  our  notice. 

We  have  now  to  turn  to  a  period  in  their 
history,  when  a  war  of  extermination  against 
the  peaceful  inhabitants  of  the  valleys  was 
resolved  on  by  the  great  ones  of  the  earth. 

Louis  XIV.  stimulated  by  those  who  sway- 
ed his  counsels,  having  driven  into  exile,  as 
we  have  seen,  many  of  the  most  faithful  of  his 
subjects,  by  the  decree  of  revocation,  at  length 
determined  to  send  the  emissaries  of  persecu- 
tion into  the  valleys  of  Piemont.  The  valle}78 
of  Pragela  and  Perosa  were  the  more  especial 
objects  of  attack.  Victor  Amadeus,  duke  of 
Savoy,  who  was  their  lawful  ruler,  was  stimu- 
lated, not  to  say  compelled,  to  assist  in  their 
destruction.  He  was,  at  first,  unwilling  to 
fall  into  the  plans  of  the  king  of  France.  But 
when  the  French  minister  hinted  that  his 
royal  master,  if  opposed  by  the  duke,  would 
undertake  to  carry  the  measure  into  effect, 
with  an  army  of  fourteen  thousand  men,  and 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.      191 

would  afterwards  retain  the  valleys,  inhabited 
by  these  heretics,  as  a  recompense  for  his 
trouble,  he  was  afraid  to  oppose  the  wishes  of 
so  powerful  a  neighbour  any  longer.  He 
therefore  issued  an  edict,  by  which  the  Vau- 
dois  were  commanded,  under  pain  of  death,  to 
raze  their  churches,  conform  to  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  submit  their  children  to  the  Romish 
priests  for  baptism.  Distressed  and  alarmed 
at  so  cruel  a  decree,  which  included  a  multi- 
tude of  untold  grievances,  these  poor  people 
tried,  by  earnest  supplications,  to  ward  off  the 
blow;  and  finding  such  means  unavailing,  they 
prepared  to  defend  themselves  by  force  of 
arms.  For  awhile  the  men  of  the  valleys 
made  a  successful  stand  against  their  adversa- 
ries; and  after  having  gained  great  advanta- 
ges, they  were  prevailed  on  to  lay  down  their 
arms,  in  the  hope  that  their  enemies,  having 
seen  their  strength  and  firmness,  might  now 
be  willing  to  come  to  terms  with  them.  In 
this  they  were  bitterly  disappointed.  No 
sooner  had  they  submitted  themselves,  than 
they  saw  what  cause  they  had  to  repent  their 
ill-founded  confidence.  Fourteen  thousand  of 
their  people  were  made  prisoners;  and,  of 


192     THE  CHURCH  IN  THE   WILDERNESS; 

these,  eleven  thousand  perished  in  thirteen 
different  prisons:  only  three  thousand  obtained 
their  liberty,  and  these  were  driven  into  ban- 
ishment, and  their  property  confiscated.  How 
unjustly  they  were  thus  visited  by  their  ru- 
lers, appears  by  the  remonstrances  they  sub- 
sequently made  to  the  duke  of  Savoy,  through 
his  minister,  the  marquis  of  Parelle. 

"  The  subjects  of  the  Valley,"  say  they, 
"  have  been  in  possession  of  their  estates  from 
time  immemorial;  having  received  them,  by 
inheritance,  from  their  ancestors. 

"  They  have  at  all  times  paid  the  imposts 
and  subsidies  which  it  has  been  his  royal  high- 
ness's  pleasure  to  require. 

"  They  have,  in  all  commotions  of  the 
estate,  rigidly  obeyed  his  royal  highness's 
orders. 

"  At  the  time  when  the  last  persecution  was 
instituted  against  his  faithful  subjects,  there 
was  not  one  criminal  process  throughout  the 
valleys.  Each  Vaudois  was  dwelling  peace- 
ably in  his  own  home,  rendering  to  God  the 
worship  which  is  his  due,  and  unto  Caesar  the 
things  which  are  Caesar's. 

They  add,  that  notwithstanding  their  fide- 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.       193 

lity,  this  people  have  found  themselves,  after 
much  suffering  and  imprisonment,  "  scattered 
wanderers  through  the  world." 

This  despoiled  and  afflicted  remnant  of  a 
once  numerous  people,  driven  into  other  coun- 
tries, still  hovered  on  the  borders  of  their 
native  land,  anxious  to  return  to  the  homes 
which  had  been  brightened  by  domestic  bless- 
ings, to  the  vineyards  they  had  planted,  the 
flocks  they  had  fed,  and  above  all,  to  those 
sacred  scenes  where  they  and  their  fathers^had,  jr' 
served  the  Lord,  in  the  exercise  of  that  pure 
faith,  on  account  of  which  they  were  now 
driven  into  exile. 

"  Your  excellency,"  they  say,  in  addressing 
the  minister  of  the  duke  of  Savoy,  "  will  not 
deem  it  strange  that  we  should  have  Tiad  at 
heart,  a  desire  to  return  to  our  native  land. 
Alas!  the  birds,  who  have  no  reason,  return, 
in  their  season,  to  their  nests  and  dwelling- 
places,  nor  does  any  one  hinder  them;  but  this 
liberty  is  now  refused  to  men,  created  in  the 
image  of  God/' 

The  opportunity  so  ardently  desired  pre- 
sented itself  at  no  distant  period.     The  prince 
of  Orange,  a  firm  friend  to  the  Vaudois,  as  the 
17 


194     THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS,' 

leader  of  the  Protestant  cause,  was  become, 
by  the  revolution  of  1688,  king  of  England; 
and  a  war  soon  broke  out  between  him  and 
his  Catholic  majesty  of  France.  This  was 
considered  very  favourable  to  the  Vaudois,  by 
diverting  the  attention  of  Louis  XIV.  from 
their  affairs,  and  giving  him  full  occupation  in 
matters  more  nearly  affecting  the  interests  of 
his  own  kingdom.  They  resolved  to  take 
advantage  of  the  want  of  vigilance  which  these 
circumstances  occasioned ;  and  after  many  dif- 
ficulties, a  body  of  about  eight  hundred  men 
set  forth,  under  an  able  leader,  and  actually 
forced  their  way  through  mountain  defiles, 
over  almost  inaccessible  alps,  and  in  the  face 
of  their  enemies,  resumed  the  possession  of 
those  beloved  valleys,  from  which  they  had 
been  so  unjustly  driven  two  years  before. 

The  story  of  their  trials,  under  Victor 
Amadeus;  their  perilous  adventures,  and  hair- 
breadth escapes;  their  wonderful  exploits,  and 
almost  miraculous  preservation,  has  been 
chronicled  by  their  leader,  Henri  Arnaud. 
We  refer  our  readers,  for  many  interesting 
particulars,  to  this  narrative,  translated  by 
Hugh  Dyke  Acland,  Esq.  and  entitled,  "  The 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.     195 

glorious  Recovery  of  their  Valleys,  by  the 
Vaudois." 

There  are  many  things  connected  with  this 
daring  enterprise  which  we  cannot  justify. 
While  we  feel  intense  interest  in  the  struggles 
of  this  oppressed  people,  and  earnestly  desire 
their  deliverance  from  the  cruel  bondage  to 
which  they  were  subject,  we  are  compelled  to 
admit  that  they,  too,  in  these  latter  days, 
exhibit  proofs  that  they  have  fallen  from  their 
first  estate. 

In  fact,  though  the  Vaudois  are  still  a  deep- 
ly interesting  people,  they  are  not  what  they 
once  were.  Their  light  burns  more  dimly 
than  it  once  did.  In  too  many  cases  their 
fruitful  field  is  become  a  wilderness,  on  which 
the  refreshing  dews  and  fertilizing  rain  no 
longer  descend,  as  in  other  days,  when  it 
blossomed  and  brought  forth  fruit  in  abun- 
dance. But  are  we,  therefore,  to  turn  coldly 
away  from  this  long-honoured  church?  No, 
rather  let  us  unite  in  the  prayer,  that  as  the 
former  rain  was  poured  freely  on  her,  so  may 
the  latter  rain  descend,  and  make  her  desert 
as  the  garden  of  Eden.  "  Ask  ye  of  the  Lord 
rain,  in  the  time  of  the  latter  rain;  so  the 


196   THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

Lord  shall  make  bright  clouds,  and  give  them 
showers  of  rain,  to  every  one  grass  in  the 
field."  Zech.  x.  1. 

It  may  be  truly  said,  that  the  whole  of  the 
country  where  these  poor  people  dwelt  has 
been  marked  by  the  footsteps  of  the  oppres- 
sor; and  many  a  spot  still  bears  record  of 
harrowing  tales  of  cruelty  and  desolation.  In 
the  chain  of  mountains  which  rises  behind  the 
valley  of  Pragela,  separating  it  from  that  of 
St.  Martin,  one  lofty  and  picturesque  peak 
towers  above  the  rest.  It  is  called  the  Col 
Albergian,  or  Albergo;  and  derives  its  name 
from  one  of  those  fearful  scenes  in  the  Wal- 
densian  history,  to  which  we  cannot  turn  with- 
out horror.  Four  hundred  and  thirty-two 
years  have  passed  away,  since  the  inhabitants 
of  that  secluded  valley  saw  the  solemn  rejoic- 
ings of  the  day  on  which  they  met  to  com- 
memorate the  nativity  of  their  Lord  and  Savi- 
our, broken  in  upon  by  an  attack  from  their 
relentless  adversaries  of  the  Romish  church. 
Surprised  and  overwhelmed  by  numbers,  they 
were  compelled  to  fly  from  their  dwellings, 
and  take  refuge  in  caves  and  mountain-hol- 
lows. Ill  defended  from  the  severities  of  the 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.    197 

season,  and  scarcely  finding  even  a  partial 
shelter  from  the  piercing  winter-blast,  the  suf- 
ferings of  that  night  can  be  but  imperfectly 
imagined.  When  day  dawned,  eighty  infants, 
and  many  of  their  mothers,  were  found  dead 
among  the  rocks;  and  many  others  so  benumb- 
ed with  cold,  that  they  never  recovered  the 
use  of  their  limbs.  When  their  oppressors 
heard  the  tale  of  anguish,  no  compunctious 
visitings  seem  to  have  been  awakened  in  their 
hearts;  but,  turning  the  fatal  catastrophe  into 
an  unfeeling  jest,  they  called  the  mountain  the 
JUbergo,  or  lodging-house  of  the  heretics. 

Truly,  the  dark  places  of  the  earth  are  full 
of  cruelty;  and  the  heart  is  constrained  to 
inquire,  when  shall  the  light  be  shed  abroad 
without  a  cloud?  When  will  the  oppressor 
cease  in  the  land,  and  all  rest  in  one  fold, 
under  one  Shepherd?  Well  may  we  plead  for 
the  hastening  of  that  glorious  day !  Well  may 
we  pray,  "  thy  kingdom  come!" 

If  we  are  asked  to  what  end  these  records 
of  other  times  are  presented  to  the  notice  of 
the  youthful  reader,  we  would  say,  in  reply, 
that  such  narratives  appear  to  us  to  be  fraught 
with  instruction.  Perhaps  there  is  no  part  of 
17* 


198      THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

our  literature,  with  the  exception  of  that 
which  is  especially  characterised  as  sacred, 
more  valuable  than  history  and  biography. 
So  competent  a  judge  of  the  matter  as  Lord 
Bacon  observes,  when  speaking  of  the  compa- 
rative merits  of  different  kinds  of  knowledge, 
that  "history  makes  men  wise.*'  But  we  do 
not  read  it  to  the  purposes  of  wisdom,  if  we 
gather  nothing  from  it  but  the  barren  know- 
ledge of  facts.  Showing,  as  it  does,  what  man 
is,  under  the  varied  circumstances  of  life,  and 
exhibiting,  moreover,  the  operations  of  His 
hand,  who,  unseen,  directeth  the  movements 
of  the  world,  it  is  meet  that  we  should  dwell 
thoughtfully  on  its  pages.  Herein  we  may 
often  trace  undoubted  evidence,  that  although, 
for  a  time,  violence  and  wrath  may  obtain  the 
mastery,  the  Most  High  does  indeed  "rule  in 
the  kingdom  of  men."  To  our  limited  views, 
man,  for  a  season,  may  seem  to  prevail;  but 
He  who  formed  the  earth,  seeth  "the  end 
from  the  beginning,  and,  from  ancient  times, 
the  things  that  are  not  yet  done."  While  the 
workers  of  iniquity  believe  their  success  is 
sure,  and  confidently  cry,  "  Ah !  ah !  so  would 
we  have  it;"  a  voice  they  heed  not,  is  saying, 
"  My  counsel  shall  stand,  and  I  will  do  all 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.     199 

my  pleasure."  "  I  have  spoken  it,  I  will  also 
bring  it  to  pass;  I  have  purposed  it,  I  will  also 
doit."  "I  am  God,  and  there  is  none  else; 
I  am  God,  and  there  is  none  like  me/'  Isa. 
xlvi.  9,  10,  11. 

Not  the  least  important  feature  in  the  narra- 
tive before  us,  is  the  timely  and  almost  mi- 
raculous assistance,  often  afforded  to  the  suf- 
ferers in  the  season  of  extremity.  What 
ground  does  it  give  for  strong  confidence  and 
abiding  faith  in  the  Good  Shepherd  of  his 
people,  who  hath  thus  manifested  himself  to 
be  a  very  present  help  in  trouble!  In  the 
midst  of  spiritual  famine,  he  feedeth  them 
with  the  bread  of  life,  and  prepares  a  table 
for  them  in  the  presence  of  their  enemies. 
Though  he  may  seem  to  leave  them  awhile  to 
stray  in  the  wilderness,  through  paths  they 
have  not  known,  yet,  in  the  end,  they  will 
clearly  discern,  that  he  has  led  them  "  by  a 
right  way,  to  a  city  of  habitation." 

The  conduct  of  many  of  the  subjects  of 
these  memoirs,  their  patience  under  persecu- 
tion, their  faith,  and  meekness,  and  charity, 
make  them  ensamples  to  the  flock  of  Christ, 
in  every  age.  Whatever  our  appointed  lot,  as 
believers,  in  the  present  day  may  be,  may  we 


200    THE  CHURCH  IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

partake  of  the  same  spirit,  and  be  made  wil- 
ling, if  needs  be,  like  them,  to  suffer  the  loss 
of  all  things,  so  that  we  may  "  win  Christ,  and 
be  found  in  him;  "counting  all  things  but 
loss,  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ  Jesus,  our  Lord." 

While  the  annals  of  past  days  lead  us  to 
contemplate  the  sufferings  and  privations  of 
others,  may  ardent  feelings  of  gratitude  be 
kindled  in  our  breasts  for  benefits,  which  are 
now  become  so  common,  that  we  almost  forget 
they  are  such  as  our  forefathers  would  have 
considered  it  a  signal  mercy  to  enjoy.  The 
unrestrained  study  of  the  Bible,  intercourse 
with  our  fellow-christians,  and  the  unfettered 
exercise  of  religious  worship  in  public  and 
private,  are  among  the  many  high  privileges 
which  should  daily  fill  us  with  thankfulness, 
and  make  this  the  inquiry  of  every  heart, 
"  What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for  all 
his  benefits?" 

It  is  but  too  much  the  order  of  the  present 
day,  to  talk  of  our  troubles  and  perplexities; 
and  they  are  manifold:  but  it  were  surely 
right  that  we  should  sometimes  turn  away 
from  these,  and  count  our  blessings.  Were 
this  more  our  practice,  our  spirits  would 


OR,  THE  WALDENSES  OF  PIEMONT.      201 

oftener  be  in  unison  with  the  Psalmist's;  and 
we  too  should  be  enabled  to  say,  "Return 
unto  thy  rest,  0  my  soul!  for  the  Lord  hath 
dealt  bountifully  with  thee." 

Religious  persecution  is  a  fearful  and  dis- 
tressing theme,  and  so  many  evils  are  con- 
nected with  it,  that  we  may  well  pray  to  be 
preserved  from  a  repetition  of  its  trials.  Pain- 
ful indeed  is  the  consideration,  that  such 
scenes  as  we  have  described,  should  ever  be 
exhibited  among  professing  Christians.  "  How 
long,  0  Lord!"  must  be  the  cry  of  every 
heart,  duly  penetrated  with  this  mournful 
subject.  "  When  shall  all  bitterness  and 
wrath,  and  clamour,  and  evil  speaking,  be  put 
away,  with  all  malice?"  and  Christian  breth- 
ren, "  be  kind  to  one  another,  tender-hearted, 
forgiving  one  another,  even  as  God,  for  Christ's 
sake,  hath  forgiven  us?"  When  shall  the 
blessed  day  arrive,  when  the  promises  shall 
be  fulfilled: — "I  will  turn  to  the  people  a  pure 
language,  that  they  may  all  call  upon  the  name 
of  the  Lord,  to  serve  him  with  one  consent," 
Zeph.  iii.  9.  and  "  I  will  give  them  one  heart 
and  one  way,"  Jer.  xxxii.  39.  "and  there  shall 
be  one  fold,  and  one  shepherd  ."  John,  x.  16. 


APPENDIX. 

V 

NOTE  1. 
The  War  of  the  Cevennes. 

AFTER  suffering  deeply  from  the  persecuting  spirit 
of  their  powerful  enemies  for  a  long  period,  the 
people  of  the  Cevennes  were  roused  to  stand  up  in 
their  own  defence.  Their  reasons  for  so  doing 
are  set  forth  in  a  paper  published  by  their  party, 
entitled,  "The  Manifesto  of  the  Cevennois;  show- 
ing the  true  Reasons  which  have  constrained  the 
Inhabitants  of  the  Cevennes  to  take  up  Arms." 
This  paper  was  addressed  to  the  Dauphin.  After 
alluding  to  the  miseries  they  had  endured  by  per- 
secutions of  every  kind,  they  proceed  to  say, 
"  After  they  had  done  us  all  these  mischiefs,  the 
Edict  of  Nantes  was  repealed.  In  the  execution 
of  the  Revocation  of  this  Edict,  they  demolished 
our  churches,  and  banished  our  ministers  out  of 
the  kingdom  for  ever,  continuing  to  us  a  thousand 
mischiefs,  under  divers  pretexts.  All  these  dread- 
ful forms  of  persecution  astonished  the  Cevennois, 


APPENDIX.  203 

who  had  none  to  comfort  them.  Fear  caused 
some  of  them  to  hide  themselves  in  woods  and 
dens ;  and  others  endeavoured  to  flee  out  of  the 
kingdom,  that  they  might  set  their  lives  and  con- 
sciences at  liberty,  according  to  the  precept  of  the 
gospel ;  *  if  they  persecute  you  in  one  city,  flee 
unto  another.'  But  the  passages  were  so  well 
guarded  to  hinder  the  flight  of  these  poor  people, 
that  the  greater  part  of  them  were  taken  and  sent 
to  the  galleys.  They  that  fled  from  the  city,  were 
also  taken  and  locked  up  in  prisons,  which  were 
soon  filled  with  these  poor  persecuted  Protestants. 
All  these  cruel  usages  gave  us  cause  enough  to 
think  of  our  defence.  Nevertheless,  we  have 
borne  all  these  terrible  sufferings  with  patience, 
that  we  might  not  kindle  a  civil  war  in  the  king- 
dom, and  shed  the  blood  of  our  countrymen,  in 
hope  that  God  would  touch  the  hearts  of  our  ene- 
mies, and  make  them  sensible  of  the  injustice  of 
such  inhuman  persecutions."  They  go  on  to  state 
that  they  kept  themselves  in  retirement,  withdraw- 
ing into  woods  and  mountains,  concealing  them- 
selves in  dens  and  caves,  and  assembling  in  num- 
bers only  for  the  purposes  of  worship  and  religious 
instruction;  and  then  unarmed,  and  with  the  ut- 
most quietness  and  order.  "In  these  assemblies," 
they  say,  "  we  read  the  word  of  God,  we  sung 
psalms,  and  we  prayed  for  the  king  and  the  king- 


204  APPENDIX. 

dom  ;  nothing  could  be  more  just,  nor  more  inno- 
cent. But  the  priests  and  friars  having  notice  of 
it,  caused  yet  more  dragoons  and  other  troops  to 
be  sent  into  the  Cevennes,  which  they  placed  in 
ambuscade,  in  the  places  through  which  those  that 
were  of  the  assemblies  were  to  pass  on  their  return. 
They  seized  them,  and  cast  them  into  prison; 
condemned  some  of  both  sexes  to  be  hanged,  and 
others  to  be  carried  away,  the  men  to  the  galleys, 
the  women  to  the  nunneries.  And  if  they  happen- 
ed to  find  the  place  where  they  were  assembled, 
they  fired  upon  them  without  mercy,  and  without 
distinction  of  sex  or  age."  It  was  after  the  occur- 
rence of  a  scene  of  this  sort,  that  the  first  rising  of 
the  Protestants  in  the  Cevennes  took  place,  twenty 
years  subsequent  to  the  commencement  of  the  per- 
secution. 

We  pretend  not  to  justify  much  that  occurred 
among  the  Protestants  of  the  Cevennes,  and  other 
parts  of  France,  at  this  period  of  their  history. 
The  details  of  those  events  serve  to  show  how 
bitter  and  evil  a  thing  religious  persecution  is,  by 
manifesting  some  of  its  worst  fruits,  both  in  the 
oppressors  and  the  oppressed. 

The  excess  of  persecution  can  never  be  admitted 
as  a  sufficient  plea  for  the  deviation  of  the  perse- 
cuted from  the  paths  of  uprightness.  The  promise 
is,  "  God  is  faithful,  who  will  not  suffer  you  to  be 


APPENDIX.  205 

tempted  above  that  ye  are  able;  but  will,  with  the 
temptation,  also  make  a  way  to  escape,  that  ye 
may  be  able  to  bear  it."  1  Cor.  x.  13. 

Nothing  can  justify  the  doing  evil  that  good 
may  come;  nevertheless,  the  baneful  effects  of 
persecution,  furnish  a  strong  reason  why  the 
Christian  should  guard  against  the  recurrence  of 
such  calamitous  events,  by  exercising  a  watchful 
care  over  religious  privileges  and  securing  their 
continuance,  as  far  as  human  wisdom  and  foresight, 
combined  with  a  thankful  and  prayerful  spirit  may 
do  it. 


NOTE  2. 
Galley- Slaves. 

The  circumstances  of  a  gallerien's  life,vare  more 
fully  detailed  in  the  following  statement  of  M. 
Bion,  who  appears  to  have  been  a  chaplain  to 
some  of  the  galleys,  at  the  time  of  the  persecution, 
and  afterwards  a  convert  to  the  Protestant  faith : 

"  A  galley  is  a  long,  flat,  single-decked  vessel, 
with  oars ;  and  though  it  has  two  masts,  yet  it  is 
so  built  as  to  be  unfit  to  stand  against  a  rough  sea; 
and  therefore  the  sails  are,  for  the  most  part,  use- 
less. There  are  five  slaves  to  every  oar.  One  of 
them  is  a  Turk,  who  is  set  at  the  end  to  work  it 
18 


206  APPENDIX. 

with  more  strength.  There  are  in  all  three  hun- 
dred slaves,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  either 
officers,  soldiers,  seamen,  or  servants.  There  is, 
at  the  stern  of  the  galley,  a  chamber,  shaped  on 
the  outside  like  a  cradle,  belonging  to  the  captain, 
and  solely  his  at  night,  but  in  the  day-time,  com- 
mon to  the  officers  and  chaplain.  All  the  rest  of 
the  crew,  (the  under  officers  excepted,  who  retire 
under  shelter  elsewhere,)  are  exposed~above  deck, 
to  the  scorching  sun  by  day,  and  the  damps  and 
inclemencies  of  the  night.  There  is  indeed  a  can- 
vass suspended  by  a  cable,  from  head  to  stern, 
that  affords  some  little  shelter :  but  the  misfortune 
is,  this  is  only  in  fair  weather ;  in  the  least  gale  or 
storm  it  is  taken  down,  for  fear  of  oversetting  the 
galley. 

"  In  the  two  winters  of  1703  and  1704,  on  the 
coasts  of  Monaca  and  Antibes,  these  poor  crea- 
tures, after  hard  rowing,  could  not  enjoy  the  bene- 
fit of  the  night,  which  put  an  end  to  the  labours  of 
the  day,  but  were  exposed  to  the  wind  and  snow, 
and  all  the  inconveniences  of  the  season.  The 
only  comfort  they  asked  for,  was  the  liberty  of 
smoking;  but  this  was  forbidden,  on  pain  of  the 
bastinado.  Instead  of  a  bed,  they  are  allowed  only 
a  board  a  foot  and  a  half  broad ;  and  those  who 
have  the  unfortunate  honour  of  lying  near  the 


APPENDIX.  207 

officers,  do  not  presume  to  stir  so  much  as  a  hand, 
lest  their  chains  should  rattle  and  awake  them. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  give  an  account  of  the  labours 
the  slaves  undergo  at  sea,  especially  during  a  long 
campaign.  The  fatigue  of  tugging  at  the  oar  is 
extraordinary.  They  must  rise  to  draw  the  stroke, 
and  fall  back  again.  In  all  seasons,  through  the 
continual  and  violent  motion  of  their  bodies,  the 
perspiration  trickles  down  their  harassed  limbs; 
and  lest  they  should  fail,  as  they  often  do  from 
faintness,  there  is  a  gang-board  which  runs  through 
the  middle  of  the  ship,  on  which  are  posted  three 
comites,  (officers  somewhat  like  a  boatswain,) 
who,  whenever  they  think  an  oar  does  not  keep 
time  with  the  rest,  unmercifully  exercise  their 
power  on  the  man  they  suspect.  The  wand  with 
which  they  strike  being  long,  it  is  often  felt  by 
two  or  three  others,  innocent  even  of  being  sus- 
pected. 

"  To  support  their  strength  during  the  campaign, 
every  morning  each  man  has  his  proportion  of  bis- 
cuit, and  pretty  good ;  at  ten,  a  porringer  of  soup, 
made  with  oil  and  peas,  or  beans,  the  pulse  being 
often  so  stale  and  musty  as  to  be  unfit  for  eating.. 
I  call  it  soup,  according  to  their  phrase,  though  it 
does  not  deserve  the  name,  sometimes  being  little 
more  than  water,  with  a  few  peas  or  beans  swim- 


208  APPENDIX. 

ming  at  top.  When  on  duty  they  have  a  pitcher 
of  wine,  about  two-thirds  of  an  English  pint,  morn- 
ing and  evening. 

"  When  the  badness  of  the  weather  prevents  the 
galleys  from  putting  to  sea,  such  slaves  as  have 
trades,  work  in  the  galley,  or  learn  to  knit  coarse 
stockings.  The  comite,  for  whose  profit  they 
work,  pays  them  about  half  the  usual  price,  not  in 
money,  but  food.  The  poor  men  who  have  no 
trades,  clean  their  comrades'  clothes,  &c.  who, 
in  return,  give  them  some  small  share  of  the 
scanty  pittance  they  earn  by  working.  One  may 
easily  imagine  that  such  ill-treatment  occasions 
frequent  sickness,  and  especially  with  those  who, 
before  they  were  condemned  for  their  heretical 
opinions,  never  experienced  any  hardships ;  in  that 
case  this  is  their  treatment. 

"  There  is,  in  the  hold,  a  close,  dark  room,  the 
air  being  admitted  only  by  the  scuttle,  about  two 
feet  square,  which  is  the  only  passage  to  it.  At 
each  end  of  the  room  there  is  a  sort  of  scaffold,  on 
which  the  sick  are  laid  promiscuously,  without 
beds  or  any  thing  under  them.  If  this  is  full,  and 
there  are  any  more  sick,  they  are  stretched  all 
along  the  cables;  as  I  saw  in  1703,  when,  being 
on  the  coast  of  Italy  in  the  winter  time,  we  had 
above  three  score  sick  men  in  this  horrid  place, 
dreadfully  annoyed  with  vermin.  When  the  duties 


APPENDIX.  209 

of  my  function  called  me  among  them,  I  was  soon 
covered,  it  being  impossible  to  preserve  myself 
from  the  swarms.  I  was  obliged,  notwithstand- 
ing* to  make  considerable  stay  in  this  gloomy 
abode,  to  confess  such  as  were  ready  to  expire. 
The  place  was  so  low,  that  I  was  obliged  to 
stretch  myself  by  their  sides,  and  often  when  I 
was  confessing  one,  another  expired  just  by  me. 

"  There  are  in  the  galley  several  sorts  of  peo- 
ple, under  the  name  of  slaves,  besides  seamen  and 
soldiers ;  viz.  Turks,  criminals,  and  Protestants. 
The  king  buys  the  Turks  to  manage  the  stroke  of 
the  oars.  They  are  generally  strong  men,  and  the 
least  unfortunate  of  the  whole  crew ;  not  being 
chained,  but  wearing  a  ring  on  their  foot,  as  a 
badge  of  slavery.  When  they  arrive  at  any  port, 
they  have  the  liberty  to  trade ;  and  some  of  them 
are  worth  three  or  four  hundred  pounds.  They 
frequently  'send  their  money  to  their  wives  and 
children ;  and,  to  the  shame  of  Christians  be  it 
spoken,  there  is  more  charity  among  them  than 
among  many  who  profess  a  purer  faith.  The  Pro- 
testants now  in  the  galleys  have  been  condemned 
thither  at  several  times.  The  first  were  put  in 
after  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  The 
term  fixed  for  the  choice  of  either  abjuring  their 
religion  or  leaving  the  kingdom,  was  a  fortnight, 

and  that  on  pain  of  being  condemned  to  the  galleys ; 
18* 


210  APPENDIX. 

but  this  liberty,  by  many  base  artifices,  was  ren- 
dered useless ;  for  there  were  often  secret  orders, 
by  the  contrivance  of  the  clergy,  to  prevent  their 
embarking,  and  to  hinder  the  selling  of  their  sub- 
stance. Their  debtors  were  absolved  by  their  con- 
fessors, when  they  denied  their  debt;  and  children 
were  forced  from  their  mothers'  arms,  in  hopes 
that  the  tenderness  of  the  parent  might  prevail  over 
the  zeal  of  the  Christian.  Protestants  of  all  ages 
and  sexes  used  to  flee  through  deserts  and  unfre- 
quented ways,  committing  their  lives  to  the  mercy 
of  the  seas,  and  running  innumerable  hazards  to 
escape  idolatry  or  martyrdom.  Some  happily 
escaped,  in  spite  of  the  vigilance  of  the  dragoons 
and  bailiffs ;  but  many  fell  into  their  hands,  where- 
by the  prisons  were  filled  with  Protestants ;  and, 
what  was  barbarous  to  the  last  degree,  when  there, 
they  were  obliged,  on  pain  of  the  bastinado,  to 
bow  before  the  host,  and  to  hear  mass. 

"  Monsieur  Sabatier,  whose  charity  and  zeal 
those  of  the  primitive  Christians,  having  a  little  equal 
money,  distributed  it  to  his  brethren  and  fellow- 
sufferers  in  the  galleys;  but  the  Protestants  being 
watched  more  narrowly  than  the  rest,  he  could  not 
do  it  so  secretly  but  he  was  discovered,  and 
brought  before  M.  Monniort,  intendant  of  the  gal- 
leys at  Marseilles.  Being  questioned,  he  did  not 
deny  the  fact.  M.  Monmort  not  only  promised 


APPENDIX.  211 

him  pardon,  but  a  reward,  if  he  would  declare  who 
it  was  that  had  given  him  the  money.  M.  Saba- 
tier  modestly  replied,  that  he  should  be  guilty  of 
ingratitude  before  God  and  man,  if  he  should  bring 
them  into  trouble,  who  had  been  so  charitable ; 
that  his  person  was  at  tiieir  disposal ;  but  he  de- 
sired to  be  excused  as  to  the  secret  expected  from 
him.  The  intendant  replied,  he  had  a  way  to 
make  him  tell,  and  that  immediately:  whereupon 
he  sent  for  some  Turks,  who,  at  his  command, 
stripped  Sabatier  stark  naked,  and  beat  him  with 
ropes'  ends  and  cudgels,  during  three  days,  at 
sundry  times.  At  last,  seeing  that  he  was  ready 
to  expire,  he  commanded  him  to  a  dungeon. 

"  In  the  year  1703,  several  Protestants,  out  of 
Languedoc  and  the  Ce venues,  were  put  on  board 
our  galley.  They  were  narrowly  watched;  and  I 
was  greatly  surprised,  on  Sunday  morning,  after 
saying  mass  on  the  bancasse,  (a  table  placed  so 
that  all  the  galley  may  see  the  priest  when  he  ele- 
vates the  host,)  to  hear  the  comite  say,  he  was 
going  to  give  the  Hugonots  the  bastinado,  because 
they  did  not  kneel,  nor  show  any  respect  to  the 
mysteries  of  the  mass.  The  very  name  of  basti- 
nado terrified  me ;  and  I  begged  the  comite  to  for- 
bear till  the  next  Sunday,  and  that,  in  the  mean 
time,  I  would  endeavour  to  convince  them  of  what 
I  then  thought  their  duty  and  my  otvn.  Accor- 


212  APPENDIX. 

dingly,  I  used  all  the  means  I  could  possibly  think 
of  to  that  effect;  sometimes  making  use  of  fair 
means,  giving  them  victuals,  and  doing  them  kind 
offices ;  sometimes  using  threats,  and  representing 
the  torments  that  were  designed  for  them  if  they 
persisted :  often  urging  the  king's  command,  and 
quoting  the  passage  of  St.  Paul,  that « he  who  re- 
sists the  power,  resists  God.'  I  had  not,  even  at 
that  time,  any  desire  to  oblige  them  to  do  any 
thing  against  their  consciences;  but  what  I  did 
chiefly  arose  from  a  motive  of  pity  and  tenderness. 
I  could  not  but  admire,  at  once,  both  the  modesty 
of  their  answers,  and  the  greatness  of  their  cou- 
rage :  '  The  king,'  said  they,  « is,  indeed,  master 
of  our  persons,  but  not  of  our  consciences/  But 
at  last  the  dreadful  day  came,  and  the  comite  nar- 
rowly observed  them,  to  see  the  fruit  of  my  labours. 
There  were  only  two  out  of  twenty  that  bowed  the 
knee  to  Baal :  the  rest  nobly  refused  it ;  and  ac- 
cordingly were,  by  the  captain's  command,  pun- 
ished in  the  following  manner. 

"  In  order  for  punishment,  every  man's  chains 
are  taken  off,  and  he  is  stripped  naked,  and  stretch- 
ed upon  the  coursier,  (the  great  gun,)  and  there  so 
held  that  he  cannot  stir ;  during  which  time  a  hor- 
rid silence  reigns  throughout  the  galley.  The 
victim  thus  prepared,  a  Turk  is  chosen  to  be  the 


APPENDIX.  213 

executioner,  who,  with  a  tough  cudgel,  or  knotty 
rope's  end,  unmercifully  strikes  the  sufferer;  and 
that  too,  the  more  willingly,  because  he  thinks  it 
is  acceptable  to  Mahomet.  But  the  most  barba- 
rous of  all  is,  that  after  the  skin  is  flayed  off,  the 
only  balsam  applied  to  their  wounds  is  a  mixture 
of  salt  and  vinegar;  after  which,  they  are  thrown 
into  the  hospital  I  have  described.  I  went  thither, 
after  the  execution,  and  could  not  refrain  from  tears 
at  the  sight  of  so  much  barbarity.  They  quickly 
perceived  it ;  and,  though  scarcely  able  to  speak, 
thanked  me  for  the  compassion  I  had  expressed, 
and  the  kindness  I  had  always  shown  them.  I 
went  with  the  design  of  administering  comfort  to 
them,  but  was  glad  to  find  they  were  less  moved 
than  I  was  myself.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  with 
what  true  Christian  patience  they  bore  all  their 
torments ;  in  the  extremities  of  their  pain,  never 
expressing  any  thing  like  rage,  but  imploring  the 
continued  assistance  of  Almighty  God." 


NOTE  3. 
Origin  of  the  term  Faudois. 

"  The  terms,  Vaudois,  in  French ;  Vallenses,  in 
Latin;  Valdesi  or  Vallesi,  in  Italian;  and   Wai- 


214  APPENDIX. 

(lenses  in  English  ecclesiastical  history,  signify 
nothing  more  or  less  than  "men  of  the  valleys;" 
and  as  the  valleys  of  Piemont  have  had  the  honour 
of  producing  a  race  of  people,  who  have  remained 
true  to  the  faith  introduced  by  the  first  mission- 
aries who  preached  Christianity  in  those  regions, 
the  synonyms  Vaudois,  Valdesi,  and  Waldenses, 
have  been  adopted  as  the  distinguishing  names  of 
a  religious  community,  faithful  to  the  primitive 
creed,  and  free  from  the  corruptions  of  the  church 
of  Rome."— Gilly's  Waldensian  Researches. 


NOTE  4. 
Jlntiquity  of  the  Moravian  Church. 

"The  Waldenses  of  Piemont  are  not  to  be  re- 
garded as  successors  of  certain  reformers,  who 
first  stood  up  in  France  and  Italy,  at  a  time 
when  the  corruption  of  the  Roman  church  and 
priesthood  became  intolerable ;  but,  as  a  race  of 
simple  mountaineers,  who,  from  generation  to 
generation,  have  continued  steadily  in  the  faith 
preached  to  their  forefathers,  when  the  territories, 
of  which  these  valleys  form  a  part,  were  first 


APPENDIX.  215 

christianized.     Ample  proof  will  be  given  as  I  pro- 
ceed."— Waldensian  Researches,  p.  8. 

It  would  be  out  of  place  here  to  enter  into  the 
detail  of  these  proofs,  for  which,  and  much  inte- 
resting matter  beside,  we  refer  the  reader  to  Mr. 
Gilly's  work. 


THE  END. 


THE  INFORMATION  CONTAINED  IN  THIS  VOLUME 
HAS  BEEN  CHIEFLY  DRAWN  FROM  THE  FOLLOW- 
ING WORKS. 

History  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes;  printed  in 
French,  by  authority  of  the  States  of  Holland,  and 
translated  into  English,  A.  D.  1694. 

Voltaire's  Siecle  de  Louis  XIV. 

Anquetil's  Histoire  de  France. 

Eclaircisseraens  Historique,  sur  les  Causes  de 
la  Revocation  de  PEdit  de  Nantes.  Tires  des  dif- 
ferentes  Archives  du  Governement. 

History  of  the  Cevennes. 

Burnet's  History  of  his  own  times. 

Narrative  of  the  Sufferings  of  the  French  Pro- 
testants on  board  the  Galleys,  after  the  Revocation 
of  the  Edict  of  Nantes.  By  Rev.  J.  Bion,  some- 
time Priest  in  the  parish  of  Ursy,  in  Burgundy, 
arid  Chaplain  to  a  Galley  in  the  French  Service. 

Martin's  History  of  the  Sufferings  and  Martyr- 
dom of  Louis  de  Marolles. 

L' Histoire  apologetique.  By  one  of  the  exiled 
Pastors. 

Journal  de  Jean  Migault :  ou  Malheurs  d'une 
Famille  Protestante,  du  Poitou,  a  1'Epoque  de  la 
Revocation  de  PEdit  de  Nantes. 

Gilly's  Waldensian  Researches. 

Acland's  translation  of  Arnaud's  Glorious  Reco- 
very of  their  Valleys,  by  the  Vaudois. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


fc    .OW59U 

WIRX  MAY  2  1  1990 

REC'D  L.D 

fiJEUll     J          tfMJftte 

r|i]|    i  1  ?nnK 

FES  4    1189 

OUL.     J.    A     LUUU 

*4~£^-£-4      <  *%       <^4-M 

APR  12  196 

2~ 

H£C'^  ^ 

^^ 

U.C.  BERKELEY  LIBRARIES 


933561 


5"* 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


